


this is our fate (i'm yours)

by botticellis (itomorian)



Series: Good Thing (The NCT Omegaverse) [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No COVID-19, Alternate Universe - Omegaverse, Arranged Marriage, Canon Age Difference, Fake Dating, Intersex Character, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Mentions of Transmasculine Pregnancy, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, PLEASE Check Chapter Notes For Appropriate Trigger Warnings / Content Warnings, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Some Traditionally Trope-Specific Stuff Here & There, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-06 16:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 45,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20294611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itomorian/pseuds/botticellis
Summary: In the close to thirty years of their well-privileged lives, Youngho, Taeyong, and Yuta had never imagined that a day such as this would come. Their families' companies are on the line, and the only way to save those is if they agree to marry... well—each other.While people tell them that this might just be a good thing, it really just sounds like this is their fate.





	1. i feel it in my bones (i can't do it alone)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from jason mraz's i'm yours.
> 
> disclaimer(?) i don't own nct, or any places, things mentioned. and i definitely don't speak for how the people are/live their lives irl.
> 
> disclosure (full?) this is 1000000% self-indulgent and born after my fruitless search for a slow burn, chaptered 95z fic. if i can't find the fic i want, i will write it myself instead (/^▽^)/ so here u have a three-way, arranged marriage, non-traditional omegaverse au. 
> 
> p.s. this is unbeta'd, not proofread and therefore all mistakes are my own. if there's some wonky grammar or sentence structure it's because i drink stupid bitch juice on the daily and english is my third language. :')

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the beginnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note!!! the timestamps of the perspectives as they follow, are:  
youngho - present day,  
taeyong - some months ago,  
yuta - a year-ish ago.
> 
> chapter title from step by vampire weekend.
> 
> you can find the multi-lingual, multi-emotional, wack playlist to this fic [here.](https://open.spotify.com/user/31za7pv2hqwxqhup6jskucfici7i/playlist/1BpU9Mn9CFwfae2hRDxPi1?si=bNQtcPgtS0-_axP50QYNJw) <3

The second time Youngho sets foot in Seoul, it has been more than a decade since he last did. The air is heavy, smelling every bit like a metropolis should and Youngho feels like he never left Chicago at all. He takes a look around the aircraft hangar and sees what is only typical of such places and sighs, shaking his head, as the nostalgia and homesickness hit him in strong waves.

“Welcome back to Seoul, Johnny-yah,” he is greeted by a man now in his early thirties, a man he remembers all too well from his boyhood, and Youngho cannot do anything else but smile widely.

“Junmyeon hyung!” He grins and approaches the older man who is now standing with his arms wide open for him to step into, and Youngho does just that, hugging the older and shorter man tightly, revelling in the comfort provided by the embrace.

He almost lets the sigh slip out.

It’s been quite a long while since the last time just a simple hug felt so much like home.

“Yah, look at you, so grown up!” Junmyeon gushes once he pulls away, smiling softly at Youngho, who stares back at him reverently.

“You’re seeing me after so long, hyung, or would you rather I remained twelve?” He asks with a small smile, making Junmyeon make a face at him and then scoff in return.

“I’d rather you remained six because that was the only time you were cute,” the elder deadpans with an affectionate roll of his eyes and smacks the younger’s arm.

Youngho chuckles.

He still remembers idolizing Junmyeon when he was younger (to the point of almost worshipping the ground the latter walked on), and the older was a teenager, and he is actually quite surprised to see that Junmyeon still looks like _that_ – like he hasn’t aged _a day_ since Youngho last saw him.

The man is still as handsome as Youngho remembers leaving him, crying into his chest about not wanting to go to Chicago, and how the man had given him the prettiest smile and told him to go, otherwise _how will we work together if you will not know how business works?_

“I missed you too, hyung,” Youngho smiles as he follows after Junmyeon to the car, getting into the backseat as the older of them takes the passenger and grins at him in reply.

The vehicle drives out of the hangar and the airport while Youngho leans back in the seat, trying to get comfortable and also to ease the ache in his back. It’s been a long night in a long flight, fourteen hours of flying from his home to his hometown, and Youngho hasn’t had to travel such a distance in a good while so his body isn’t the most compatible with the jetlag.

As the car makes its way through the busy streets of Seoul to the Seo’s Villa, Youngho’s eyes scan the cityscape. He cannot say for sure, whether a lot has changed or not. It has truly been a long time since he was last in Seoul, so Youngho takes in as much of the night view of the city as he can, a small attempt at re-familiarising himself with his birthplace.

The streets are bustling with people going about their lives, he sees office-workers returning from their offices on foot, briefcases in one hand and smartphones in the other. He sees younger people dressed fancily as they enter different spots of recreation – some of them into the karaoke bars, some into fast-food restaurants, and some into nightclubs.

Youngho is not very sure what compels him to do so, but he gives in to the urge still and takes in a deep, long whiff of the city air only to be hit immediately with the smell of the city, as well as the scent of people. A concoction of fragrances hits him at once, and thanks to _(not really)_ his extra-strong olfactory senses, he can distinguish each and every smell from the other.

Strong overpowering smells of Alphas, sweet nectarine scents of Omegas, and the soft, pleasing aromas of Betas, such as of the two sitting right before him. And he cannot help but notice how all of it is so unlike Chicago, where almost every single, living-breathing person uses scent masking products _(Youngho is pretty sure they do)_ throughout the day and probably even through the night.

Which is one of the things that Youngho does quite clearly remember about the time when he’d just started living in Chicago – how surprised he was at the lack of the odour caused by the presence of the differentiating hormones. He remembers trying to concentrate hard and fast towards trying to find any secondary-sex smells, and becoming sad when he would fail to find any.

He remembers feeling forlorn at the foreign feeling it would bring – not being surrounded by any smells.

He remembers being so used to being enveloped by his father’s Omega scent – an aroma that would remind him of the jasmines in their garden, a bit like the sea, and of something so much like trust and comfort; or his mother’s pleasant Beta smell – that would make Youngho want it to be peach-season again, so he could have the fresh ripe peaches that were grown in their backyard, and something that smelled a whole lot like affection and family.

_Family_, Youngho’s mind repeats the word as his eyes go over a brightly lit skyscraper that they drive by.

_Has it always been there?_ He cannot say he remembers, and in his defence it looks fairly new, but maybe it has always been there and this is just nostalgia turning his remaining memories into a jumbled mess, into something like abruptly cut clips from blurry videotapes – flashes of visuals that do not make a lot of sense, yet hold a lot of significance in each and every frame.

Though as much as he does not remember about this city anymore, he would be lying if he said he did not miss home. Because _of course, he did_, of course, he _missed home_, missed _his family_, _how could he not?_ But Seo Youngho never could have guessed that out of the all the reasons there could have been behind him coming back to Seoul, _this_ would be it.

To become just a sacrificial goat in the merging of three of the biggest corporations of East Asia.

To give, what is maybe _(definitely) _the rest of his life away _(though not very willingly, of course,)_ to something that is essentially nothing but a profitable arrangement between LSM, SBH, and JYN, to bring together all three of the companies and expand as decided by the chairpersons of the them – those being Youngho’s parents (of SBH), Mr. Lee (of LSM), and Ms. Nakamoto (of JYN).

The three companies come from different fields of profession which are still somewhat interlinked, so to make that same ‘link’ official and final _(in simple terms, unbreakable unless any or all of the companies involved are willing to face repercussions)_ – and of course, to rake in huge enough amounts of money to feed at least the next ten of their generations extremely well, the heads of the conglomerates have reached a unanimous decision.

It is such a decision that no one would really bat an eyelash at, because of how _common_ an occurrence it is in the upper-class society – but is definitely going to become the bane of Youngho’s existence. He just knows it.

An arranged marriage.

_An arranged marriage!_ Youngho’s mind echoes, still unbelieving.

_What in the world?_

Why does he have to get stuck in an arranged marriage?

And it is not even that arranged marriages are bad, per se.

_I mean, look at Doyoung now, _Youngho thinks – but it is only that Youngho himself has never enjoyed the idea of not having the freedom to choose one’s own spouse, much less lacking the liberty to choose _his_ _own_. So, now that he is at such a point in life where _he_ is the one_ being married off_, Youngho, naturally, is _very unhappy_ with the way things have turned out.

Out of all the unmarried men of and in Seoul, Youngho has to be the one getting trapped in an arranged marriage.

Youngho, who is not even fond of the fundamental idea behind those.

Why would he marry a person of whose existence he is not even aware of — in his case, not until he meets with them both?

Them _both_.

Which, at the end of the day, is another _key_ factor about this arrangement that is unsettling him to no end — the fact that he will possibly have to marry, _against his better judgment_, not one person but two.

**_Two_**.

_God, what am I going to do?_

//

“What am I going to do, noona?” Taeyong asks the woman lying face-to-face to him on the warm, _warm_ bed, and he loves her so, _so_ much.

“I wish I could be selfish enough and tell you that…” Seulgi sucks in a deep breath, “…that what you’re going to do is stay…here…with me…” She sighs sadly, and laces her fingers with Taeyong’s, their conjoint hands lie against her chest.

“Please, tell me to stay,” Taeyong says, squeezing their interlocked fingers, trying to prolong this moment, knowing that this is most probably the last time they’ll get to have this. The last time that they’ll get to have _each other_ like this.

“You and I both know I cannot do that, Yongie,” Seulgi breathes out slowly, letting go of one of Taeyong’s hands so she can brush aside his bangs falling into his eyes.

Her dark eyes are twinkling in the mellow bluish glow of the night light, brown hair splayed over the pillow like an ink spill, her lips are pink and bitten from where she was chewing on them just a while ago, and Taeyong _swears_ he will _never_ love another woman.

The breath she slowly releases is gentle and cool, and brings with itself a feeling of finality as it ghosts a careful touch over Taeyong’s face, and he takes a long breath himself as he looks at the beautiful woman lying in front of him on the warm, _warm_ bed, and he just loves her, so, _so_ much.

“I love you,” Taeyong whispers into the night, his fingers are wrapped around Seulgi’s thin wrist, and her wrist is cool from being outside of the covers, but her palm radiates heat where it meets his cold cheek, and Taeyong’s heart breaks again.

“Never, for one moment, think that I will stop loving you, Yongie,” Seulgi murmurs, shuffling closer to Taeyong until her face is resting in the gap between his shoulder and the pillow, and Taeyong embraces her tighter, pulls her in closer, and he _never_ wants to let go, _and_ he knows tonight is the last night they’ll ever spend together in _this_ bed, in _their bed_, tangled up like this, and it is all _so painful_.

“What if…what if I stopped loving you? I cannot live if I were to do so.” Taeyong voices out his true worries, voice breaking as he loses himself in thought.

All his life, he was raised in a way that conditioned him to the idea of being an Alpha’s mate – he was taught all his life that with him being an omega there are not going to be a lot of people in this society who would deem him important, no matter if he would go on to inherit his family’s company or not.

He was always taught that being an omega, the only thing he would be good for would be a political marriage, a loveless arrangement organized only for their companies to benefit from. He has been made to take continuous heat suppressants since he’d ever presented, and he is not allowed to stop taking them lest his heat hits and someone other than his _perfectly Alpha spouse_ touches him.

It is funny, and the joke is on his parents, that even if his heat never came, he has touched and been touched. Known every sliver of Seulgi’s skin and body and what makes her breathe out melodies, has given himself to her to know and explore and she has loved, and loved, and loved him.

_Touched, and touched, and touched._

Never has Taeyong hated his secondary-sex more. Never has he hated _himself_ more. He _let_ his family bring him up in a way that even though he loves Seulgi with his life, he cannot bring himself to be completely opposed to whatever political marriage he is being pushed into.

Instead, he finds himself actually somewhat looking forward to it.

“Then you’ll stop loving me, Yongie,” Seulgi’s voice shakes, “life is too short to be losing yourself over something as trivial as falling out of love.” She does not sound as positive as her words, like she cannot _believe_ she is saying all of this, like she wishes she were saying anything but this, like she wishes she were anywhere but here, and after tonight, she will not be troubled by this anymore.

“Lie to me, noona.” Taeyong scrunches his eyes shut, his fingertips dig into Seulgi’s waist, “Tell me this is all a bad dream.”

“This is _not_ a bad dream, Yongie, even if we both wish it was.” The woman in his arms, the woman he could give his life for, mumbles as her voice trembles, “I cannot even give you what _they_ can, and you deserve the universe, baby." She shifts in his arms and backs away from his embrace.

“Remember when you spilled red wine all over yourself in that fancy restaurant three months into our relationship?” She asks, and at the slow nod from Taeyong she continues speaking, “That was the moment I knew I loved you.”

Taeyong goes silent for some moments, but then he giggles at the memory.

“I was so nervous because that was when I realized I was in love with you and it completely knocked me off my axis. I just caught you looking out of the window, and you were thinking of something, then still deep in thought you smiled, and it just hit me – _I am so in love with her._” He chuckles softly, “That was seven years ago.”

“I was just thinking – _I think I’m in love with him,_” Seulgi pauses to laugh, “and that realization was what made me smile, and the next moment you’re spilling a glass’s worth of wine all over yourself and all I can remember thinking is – _God I **am** so in love with this boy._”

She breaks out into laughter then, prompting Taeyong to do the same, and honestly how could he not? She is the cutest when she laughs, and she laughs so freely that all you want to do is feel some part of that happiness that she is feeling.

“I’ve loved you for seven years, Taeyong,” Seulgi takes another deep breath, pausing to sniffle, “I’ve loved you for seven years knowing we’d never have a future together, and I love you all the same, with my life… Do you really think seven years’ worth of unconditional love will be easy for _me_ to forget?”

A tear slips down her temple and on to the pillow. She licks her lips slowly, breathing slowed down so she does not break out into sobs, and Taeyong is the same. He is taking slow, deep breaths so as not to cry, and his throat hurts from trying to gulp down the lump of emotions that are threatening to choke him.

“You’ve given me everything, Yong. You gave me your friendship when I was all alone. You gave me all your love when I never believed I deserved any. You brought me positivity and hope and happiness when my life had had anything but. You taught me that it was okay for me to be selfish sometimes, that I did not have to do anything that I did not want to. You taught me that my self-preservation comes first. You gave me a family when I never had one of my own.”

Seulgi pauses, her voice choked up with tears, the teardrops falling from her eyes unstoppable.

"And I know that I will never love anyone as much I love you, right at this moment, as I have for seven years, because for me there's only you. So what I’m going to do instead, is that I’m going to love you enough for the both of us. Even if you stop loving me, _even if you forget me_. _You_, _loving you_, taught me to love myself. I love you so much I oftentimes forget how hating myself felt like– like this is a whole other person in my place, a person who’s only ever had it good.”

She laughs, watery, and leans forward to press a kiss on Taeyong’s forehead.

He loses his will to hold his tears in.

“Don’t cry, darling. Know that if we really love someone, that if we _truly_ love them, then the love we have for them never actually fades away. It only transforms, only changes its shape. It _never_ runs out.” She says with conviction, and Taeyong believes her, word for word, because lying in front of him is a woman who never believed in love for the first three years of their friendship, who did not even believe in _friendship_, a woman who has now left behind such a dark part of her life – it kills him to think she may be alone again.

“We’ll always love each other, then?” Taeyong asks tenderly, just to placate his heart.

“In some form or the other… I don’t think I could stop even if I tried.” Seulgi answers as she sniffles and reaches up to wipe her own tears, and then Taeyong’s.

“I don’t think I could either,” He murmurs as he looks at the woman lying face-to-face to him on their warm, _warm_ bed, and he just loves her. _So, so much._

He loses himself in her one last time.

She smells of petrichor, pineapples, and a lot like love.

//

“Say something, Winwinnie,” Yuta urges, tears filling his eyes as they search for something in the beautiful, dark eyes of the man standing by his side.

“I’m sorry Yuta-hyung.” Sicheng can only reply with a stone cold visage, and Yuta lets the tears slip out because he _knows_ this coldness is all an act, “but… this is all for the best.”

“Then _why_ are you so down about this? _Why_ do you look seconds away from crying yourself?” Yuta sniffles, his tone accusatory as he snatches out the handkerchief from inside his pant-pocket and violently dabs at his cheeks and nose.

“Because it being for the best _does not mean_ that it makes me happy.” Sicheng answers, voice colder than the expression on his face. His eyes are shaky and watery, and the people who don’t know him smile sympathetically at them, surely thinking of his unshed tears as being pre-wedding jitters.

But who is to tell them how _sad_ everything is, and just how do they do that?

That even though Sicheng stands ready to walk down the aisle with his _‘best friend’_ and _‘best man’_ Yuta walking him to the altar; the ring Sicheng proposed to Yuta with is still sitting beautifully on the ring finger of Yuta’s left hand, a moonstone glowing nebulous and blue.

That even though Sicheng is going to marry the heir of Huang’s, next in line to take over WGU – today in this cozy and private wedding ceremony, his heart belongs to Nakamoto Yuta — his best friend of twelve years, boyfriend of five, and fiancé of eight months — like it has all this time.

“Let me take you away from here.” Yuta begs, “Please. _Winwinnie_.”

Sicheng shakes his head sorrowfully.

“You know more than anyone how much I wish I could. _You know, Yuta_.”

“No, I don’t.” Yuta spits back, and his voice is still so full of affection, and Sicheng wonders if he can feel even more heartbroken than he already does.

“Don’t make this any harder for me than it already is, Yuta-hyung.” Sicheng’s voice trembles, “I… I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

“How _dare_ you say that, Winko?” Yuta gasps through a fresh round of tears, “How _dare_ you honestly say that _you don’t know what you’ll do without me_ when _you_ are the one literally taking away my reason of living from me?”

Sicheng sucks in a wobbly breath.

“You know I wish things didn’t have to come to this,” The younger sniffles, wiping at his eyes with some tissues he has been holding.

Yuta looks at the love of his life with his own eyes full of tears, and he _knows_, he _understands_. If there were any way things could be different without putting Sicheng’s younger brother on the line for a political marriage, then they would not be standing here, having this discussion.

There is a pause.

Sicheng’s mother beckons Yuta to walk her son down the aisle, and Yuta, with his broken heart, gives his elbow for Sicheng to take. A soft instrumental piece of music plays in the background of the ceremony, and Yuta’s already broken heart feels like it has been stomped upon, when he recognizes the melody.

Sicheng’s fingers curl around the crook of Yuta’s elbow and they start walking towards the altar, where his new life awaits him.

His about-to-be husband, Huang Renjun awaits him.

The heir of the Huang’s is a man younger than both Yuta and Sicheng, merely twenty-one years old against Yuta’s twenty-six, and Sicheng’s twenty-four, but he is, nevertheless, an alpha that everyone respects and holds in high regards.

Huang Renjun is a what people generally term as — a prodigy. The boy had graduated high school at the tender age of only fourteen, and he was done with his university-level education by the time he turned eighteen.

He has been taking care of the Huang’s family business ever since, and the company has only seen progress, and success from then onwards. And like every upper-class family that has an eligible, unmarried heir, The Huang’s also want to marry their son off to the first suitable person they can lay their eyes on.

But in their case, this marriage had been preordained, even though Sicheng never knew anything about it.

Sicheng’s father and Renjun’s mother had been the best of friends since their childhoods, but in adulthood, Sicheng’s father business had suffered a major loss, and to save whatever was left of their lives, he had asked for financial help from his best friend.

The Huang matriarch had given him so much money without even batting an eyelash, that their lives were restored with ease. But the recession hit again, and this time it completely tore down the Dong’s business to shreds.

With a huge amount of the debt still remaining to be settled, the Dong patriarch could not see any other way to survive this hit, and ended his life instead, leaving a letter behind, giving his eldest son to the Huang’s as payment of the debt.

Sicheng’s mother hid the truth from him all through his life, up until a month ago, because it was then that the Huang family had reached out to them on the subject of the promised hand of their eldest and only son.

And now here Sicheng is, repeating after the Priest’s words, holding hands with a boy so much younger than himself who is looking at him like he hung the moon, to have and to hold him from today onwards, the ache in his heart is so great that he has no recollection of when they exchange rings, or of when he says _‘I do.’_

The man — boy — standing opposite to him smiles fondly, and he looks like he is so much in love with Sicheng already, the older man nearly bursts down in tears. But it is Yuta’s presence behind him, Yuta’s warmth beside him, that keeps him strong and stops him from breaking down.

So he leans in for the customary kiss. Sicheng tries not to think about how it feels a lot like he is betraying Yuta but the feeling plagues him anyway, so he brushes all thoughts away and presses a peck to the lips of the boy in front of him, while trying to push down the nausea that threatens to make him retch his breakfast for kissing someone who is not the man that he loves.

Later, Sicheng is greeting the guests with his now-husband standing right next to him, and the fingers of the boy’s hand are brushing against Sicheng’s own, Sicheng cannot find it in himself to interlace their digits, not even for show.

His now husband is also shorter than him, almost by a head, and every time Sicheng looks at him, he cannot help but think how much he likes — _loves_ — Yuta’s lack of height over Renjun’s. He loves how Yuta is just the right height to look him in the eyes, unlike this boy the top of whose head does not even reach Sicheng’s nose.

It is not very kind of him to think that way, he notes, _but circumstances aren’t kind to you either Sicheng_, he begrudgingly reminds himself.

When they sit down for dinner, and hence comes the time for the best man’s speech, everyone claps and cheers for Yuta as he takes the stage. Sicheng gulps and gulps again in an attempt to calm himself, and he vaguely registers the warmth of a hand resting close to his own.

Sicheng promises himself that he will not cry, watching the man he loves more than the world, about to talk about him like they are nothing more than best friends of years. Like they have not been in love with each other for half a decade. Like Sicheng hadn’t proposed marriage to Yuta before it all turned out the way that it has.

“I suppose that everyone is having a good time today?” Yuta asks once he has properly checked the mic, and the gathering of the guests cheers again in affirmation.

Sicheng cannot just _not_ notice how ethereal Yuta looks under the stage lights. It is nearing evening, and it is just beginning to get dark. The sky behind Yuta’s head is colouring a slow purple from the vibrant blue it had been during the day, and beauty streaks the sky in shades of magenta, and vermillion, and gold.

Yuta has always been gorgeous. That is a fact Sicheng has known since the very first day he had laid eyes on the elder. Which is why he understands when he sees men and women, of all ages, swoon over how stunning Yuta looks today.

“Well, well, well…” Yuta exhales, pasting a lovely smile on his face that Sicheng knows is fake, “Now what shall I tell you about my Winwinnie?” The guests coo at Yuta calling Sicheng ‘_his Winwinnie’ _and Sicheng clenches his jaw in frustration.

Yuta hums. A long, drawn-out one for show, and the crowd waits in anticipation.

“Winwinnie is… well, I’m not very good with words when it comes to the people that I love, so please bear with my lame-ass everyone,” He snickers, causing the audience to awe at, and laugh with him.

“Winwinnie looks like the type of person who would tell you to go fuck yourself if you asked him to help get your drunk ass to bed, but in reality, he is such a person you wouldn’t have to ask for assistance from. He would give you a helping hand the moment he feels that you need it.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes in fond annoyance, knowing that on stage right now is not only the love of his life, but also his best friend of twelve years. The one who knows Sicheng probably better than Sicheng knows himself, the one who knows Sicheng better than Sicheng knows the back of his own hand.

“He has a way with people. Like, there could be a person that no one sees the good in, but Winwinnie could sit with him for some time and tell you that there is so much more than what meets the eye. He… He has this way of making people feel worthy… feel good about themselves… And I’ve never seen anyone do that so commendably.”

Sicheng is smiling widely, and his eyes don’t leave Yuta’s for a moment, even though Yuta continues to look at all the guests so that no one feels left out, Sicheng can feel his heart swell with love and love and love for the man who stands on the stage, building bridges of praise for him. The only man that Sicheng sees.

“Winwinnie has the power to make… to make a person feel like a starry night. Like Van Gogh’s Starry Night. To make someone feel that beautiful… and I have no freaking idea how he is capable of doing that… of how can a person even feel like a starry night… But I say this because I have felt like this... Because he has made me feel like this."

Yuta chuckles, and his voice breaks at the end of the sentence.

Sicheng cannot comprehend how hard it must be for him to list off what he loves about the younger, and not be able to tell the world that he is in love with him and that Sicheng loves him back. Or maybe he can comprehend that, and it hurts so much to love Yuta more than he has ever loved anything, or anyone, yet to be unable to do anything to change their predicament.

“I’m afraid I can’t go on praising my best friend for much longer _without_ making it seem like I’m in love with him,” Yuta rolls his eyes for a comic effect, and the people in attendance all laugh, “so I’m gonna end this cheesy-ass best man speech by saying all the best to my Winwinnie and Renjun-ssi on their wedding, and by wishing them all the good fortune and blessings from the Gods above.

“So here’s a toast to this wonderful marriage lasting forever!” Yuta raises his flute of champagne in the air, and the audience follows his example, glasses raising towards the sky as the people cheer at the top of their lungs.

After the ceremony has come to an end, and people are gradually taking their leave, Yuta heads to Sicheng who is standing all alone at one corner of the venue, looking glum, and stands alongside him. The younger looks up at him in surprise and sighs in relaxation when he sees that it is only Yuta.

Yuta looks at him affectionately for one moment too long and then ruffles the younger’s hair.

“Give me one last dance with you?” He asks, and Sicheng nods.

His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and Yuta’s heart hurts to know that he will not be able to kiss him into smiling, anymore. That he will not be the one kissing Sicheng until the younger’s pouty mouth morphs into a beaming grin.

_“Anything you want.”_ Sicheng murmurs.

Yuta wishes it could be true.

Sicheng’s eyes are filled with shining stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wish u blessings, positivity, good health and contentment. tysm for reading this. 🍀💘💘💘
> 
> \- min🌸
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/glitteryongs) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/glitteryongs) 💌


	2. (ever since the rain) i've been waking on my own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the official chapter 1: a glimpse into youngho's character.
> 
> chapter title from the rain by oh wonder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy reading this! 💓
> 
> note: i have no idea how business works??? i just eyeballed all the business talk lmao if it doesn't make sense then that's between me and god, pretend you do not see. <3

Youngho’s day begins with him listening to the rain falling outside, a soft pitter-pattering that wafts in through his window, and brings him some form of comfort while his mind whirls in trepidation for what is about to come.

Faint light streams in through that same, huge window behind the headboard, accompanied by a cool breeze that plays with the silky, white curtains hanging down. The birds in the garden are chirping, and it is a pleasant sound along with that of the rain, so Youngho is grateful that his morning is, _at least_, peaceful – though his body and mind may be anything but.

His eyelids feel like they are sandpaper instead of skin, refusing to shut now that he has kept them open all night. As if that was not enough, his eyes are also tearing up, feeling like they are filled with grit and gravel, pain skyrocketing every time he blinks. He does not need to see them to know that they are undoubtedly red from the strain. As tired as he had been last night, as tired as he _still is_, sleep had refused to take him just as he had refused to fall asleep himself.

Sighing softly, he checks for his phone by his head, hand searching for the gadget buried somewhere under or in between his pillows, and pulls it out once he finds it. He unlocks the screen, and the time is displayed to be 05:16 in the morning. The date tells him that it is the 19th of June, and he closes his eyes shut tightly, hoping that everything that is happening is a nightmare that he will wake up from once he opens his eyes, back at his apartment in Chicago.

Youngho opens his eyes slowly, desperately wanting to see the plain white ceiling of his bedroom back home in Chicago even though he is fully aware that it is only wishful thinking clouding his head, but he still holds on to some veneer of hope.

He reopens his eyes to the canopy of the abnormally huge four-poster bed that he has spent the night staying awake in, soft white curtains tied to each bedpost and spread above him – obscuring some part of the off-white ceiling from his view. Whatever optimism he was holding on to, dissipates, expected yet sudden – like the dying down of a candle’s flame even though you have been blowing air onto it.

Having lost his optimism, a subdued groan escapes Youngho’s throat when he turns on his side in an effort to leave the bed, and the mattress under his body is soft enough to feel like a cloud. On some other day, it might be impossibly irresistible to Youngho – might just tempt him into staying in bed a little longer – but today he has a lot of other things to worry about.

With a body that is aching all over, and eyes that are on fire, Youngho heads towards the bathroom to properly begin his day. He finishes his morning routine sluggishly, with an uncooperative body hindering his efficiency, as well as his mood.

It feels like he has spent forever in the bathroom when he finally comes out of there. He had been too tired to unpack his bags last night, so now he must suffer the consequences of not doing it. He squats down next to his bag on the floor, rips the lock-tags from the airport away, and then unzips the suitcase to take out his workout clothes, and his yoga mat.

He changes into the clothes, grabs the mat and his phone, and heads over to the greenhouse in the backyard, where he hopes to find _some_ moments of peace if possible – _if that is not too much to ask for_, he wonders as he looks up at the sky.

He is done with his regular yoga session by 07:00 as is usual for him, so he picks up his things and goes back to his room. Bathed and half-dressed in a formal pair of grey trousers and a white shirt, Youngho heads to the dining area by the time the clock points at thirty minutes past seven.

It is a routine that had been ingrained within him ever since he had been a child, had just barely gained his senses. _You’re an alpha, Youngho. Alphas, out of everyone, should know the significance of time. Time is money. Money is Power. Power is Respect. You will have a business to run when you’re older, how will you do it if you won’t recognize and acknowledge the delicacy and value of time?_

“Good morning, mom.” Youngho smiles at his mother when he joins his parents at the breakfast table, laughing when she hugs him sideways and kisses his cheek – all smiling and abundant with affection, and God has he missed her.

“Good morning, my love.” His mother greets him back, still smiling, eyes curved into beautiful crescents. Her short, straight hair is impeccably set, she is in the same state of dress as Youngho’s, and Youngho’s father’s – almost ready to go to work save for some final touches here and there – and she is the most beautiful woman in the world to Youngho.

“What, don’t I get any _Good Mornings_, or kisses, or better yet, both?” Youngho’s father asks with a sideways glance at his wife and son, hands holding on to the newspaper he is reading, corners of his lips twitching as he tries not to smile.

"Good morning, dad." Youngho chuckles and greets his father, hugging him sideways as well. The older man's scent of comfort drifts up to and tickles Youngho's nose. Youngho wonders how his father knows he needs comfort more than anything today.

His father hugs him for some more moments before he lets him go, however, not before he pats the younger man’s shoulder in another comforting endeavour.

Breakfast with his family after so many years at a stretch is nostalgic… to say the least. The last time that Youngho remembers seeing his parents in person is four years ago, and even that had been for some hours when the couple had gone to Chicago for some business-related meeting. So, to sit with them now— as a family— once again, is something to which Youngho has long since stopped being used to.

His parents love to make conversation whenever eating – _Food time is family time, Youngho. A family that eats together, stays together._ Youngho still has vague memories of some of the most heated discussions that have taken place on this same table, few of which had ended up being bigger than anyone could’ve anticipated – like the one that had resulted in Youngho cleaning the entire living room for accidentally using an incorrect argument. He nearly laughs out loud at the memory.

“Son, you look preoccupied.” He hears his mother point out, and his eyes focus back into his food that he has not quite touched. Yet before Youngho can reply, she speaks again.

“Get some food into your system, we have a long day ahead of us today.” She tells him with a calm smile, and Youngho’s heart drops again when he remembers what the day entails.

The anxiety rolls off of him in waves, smelling strongly of bleach, and his mother and father both cease their movements in alarm. Youngho’s mother looks at his father helplessly and the older Seo looks at her in an effort to console her. He nods reassuringly and immediately releases calming pheromones to soothe their son.

“Mom I—” Youngho’s voice cracks, so he clears his throat. “I don’t understand… Why…? _Why me?_ Why would you give _me_ and _my life_ away for a marriage of convenience when it is not even reasonable to me in the first place?”

“We—” “We—”

Both his parents start at the same time, then pause. Youngho's father looks at his wife and ushers her to go on. So she does. "We want what's best for you, son." She says as he brings her palm to rest over the back of Youngho’s hand. “And also, what is best for this company— this business— that we’ve worked so hard to build. _We_ are a part of the upper-class society Youngho… And _you _are an heir_ – our only heir._ It is rare that we would get a choice here, and those that do, are lucky.” Her gaze is sympathetic, and Youngho knows it – can feel it – that she is being sincere, but her sincerity is misplaced under the implication of her words, lost beneath the underlying tone of authority.

Her words, for once, do nothing to calm the brewing storm in his heart.

The odour of bleach in the air gets stronger.

"Son, if I may?" Youngho's father gently wraps his arm around Youngho's shoulder and takes deep breaths to gather himself. Youngho feels his inner wiring follow after his father’s, and he takes some deep breaths himself to calm down. The smell of jasmines slowly takes over his senses, and Youngho finds himself breathing easier than he has in _days_.

“Son…” His father says, breathing softly now, “I am sorry that you must go through with this… But you must know that this is, indeed, for the best. We’ve wanted to see you have a family for so long, Youngho. And it is no news that your mother and I… We’re getting older… And who knows what tomorrow holds for us? The company… _Yes_… The company’s welfare lies in merging with the other two, but you are our first priority son. And have some faith in your parents… Arranged marriages are not as bad as they seem.” The elder Seo sighs, squeezing his son’s arm softly.

Youngho breathes in jasmines once again, and the smell of truth— of _honesty_.

“All we want is to see you happy, with a mate and family of your own. It is true that you will be having two mates now, and it might be a little harder to get used to… But you must remember that mom and dad never wanted anything that would be bad for you— _our one and only child_.” His mother adds from his other side. Youngho nods, and breathes in her scent of peaches, laced with the same smell of truth lingering on his father. He sighs, because he does not know what this means— he does not know what to do.

“I— I am— I am not convinced…” Youngho mumbles unsurely and then purses his lips. Then he hears both of his parents’ sigh.

“You don’t have to be, so soon, honey.” His father soothes, “Just come with us to the meeting, hear out what is going to happen, and then we can have as many and as long conversations about this as you want.”

“God knows if you’d have been convinced so easily, we’d have thought that we’d been too hard on you as a child— to obey your parents’ wish just like that— without putting up any fight— what kind of parents would that have made us?” His mother sighs, smoothing over the furrow of Youngho’s eyebrow with her thumb.

“I’ll see what happens at this meeting first…” Youngho trails off, gulping softly. “And then— And then I’ll see how I feel about this.”

“Of course, my dear.” His mother whispers.

After finishing breakfast, Youngho and his parents head to their respective rooms to get fully dressed. Subsequently, all of them take their cars and are driven to LSM Seoul Headquarters where the meeting for today is supposed to take place.

On the way to the Company’s headquarters, Youngho tries to avoid thinking too much about what is to come. He tries not to think about how he is barely minutes away from seeing two men that he might actually have to _marry_. Tries not to think about what his family and his company might have to lose were he to refuse to be a part of this arrangement.

It is harder than Youngho initially thought it would be, because as he pulls the window down on the way to their destination, the city of Seoul greets his eyes. He tries to focus on the buildings as they pass by — trying to count the floors or the windows-panes on each floor, but it proves to be a lot harder than it would usually be.

Every time that he almost zones out, Youngho’s mind takes him back to the predicament that he finds himself inescapably stuck in. He cannot help but wonder if he is the only one _not on board_ with this arrangement. What if the other two are not on board with this, much like himself? Maybe he could talk to them, and work something out so that they wouldn’t have to go through with the arranged marriage? If all goes well, then they might even be able to convince the heads of the companies into agreeing.

_Stop overthinking about this before you’ve even entered the building, Youngho,_ he chastises himself and pulls the window up again. He is beginning to feel the strain his body is under, thanks to the two hours of restless sleep that he had gotten the night of his flight being the only sleep he has gotten during the last forty-eight hours. With a slow throbbing that he can feel building up at the centre of his forehead, Youngho leans back into the seat of the car and closes his eyes, hopefully, he can will the headache away.

Youngho does not try to guess how much time has passed until the car finally comes to a halt, and moments later the driver opens the door for him. He thanks the driver, straightens his posture and climbs out of the car while the driver shuts the door behind him. The sound of the door shutting, while not very loud, shakes the already antsy Youngho just a bit more than he would like to admit.

“Son, are you okay?” His mother asks him while walking some steps ahead of him and Youngho shrugs in reply.

“I’m not fine, but I will be.” Youngho lies, and his mother is graceful enough to not acknowledge how Youngho smells the slightest of rotten flesh. _I should be fine._

“Good morning and welcome to the Seoul HQ of LSM Electronics, Mrs. Seo and Company. I am Lisa Manoban, and I will be leading you to the Main Conference Hall where your meeting is scheduled to be held at, starting at 10 o’ clock. If you will follow me, please.” The girl standing in front of them is gorgeous with dark brown hair down to her waist, tresses falling in soft waves. While most of her bangs are covering her forehead, some of them are pinned to the side and it only makes her look more youthful. She is wearing generic formal clothing – a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and metallic, dark blue pants – but her looks could rival supermodels’.

Youngho sighs. Maybe if the person(s) that were part of this arrangement resembled this woman in front of them, he could be slightly less perturbed by the whole idea? _Maybe_. Growing up, Youngho really hadn’t the time to fall in love, much less to figure out his sexual or romantic orientation. However, some sort of heteronormativity had been fed into his mind because of the notion's prevalence in the general society.

It is not that Youngho has something against people who happen to be into the same primary-sex, either. Most, if not _all_ of his friends are into the same primary-sex themselves (although at varying degrees of preference), and while Youngho hasn’t had a lot of time _(any time, to be rather honest with himself)_ to date someone, or have some form of a love-life, he has admittedly never given much thought towards liking – to put it simply – _males_.

_Not that any of that matters anymore though_, he supposes. Because regardless of whether or not he is romantically – or even sexually – attracted to males, here he is still, walking towards a VIP elevator that will lead him to what is quite possibly his destiny… Which is, _quite possibly_, something he’d have to live with and suffer from for the rest of his life.

_Not if I have a say in it, _Youngho firmly reminds himself, taking in a slow, calming breath as the elevator door slides to a close.

His gaze travels to the woman standing in front of him and his parents — Lisa, or what she said her name was, who seems to be standing absolutely upright, back ramrod stiff. Against his better judgment Youngho discreetly and as unnoticeably as possible inhales deeply, an attempt to gauge what secondary-sex the woman is, with plain and simple curiosity and nothing more being the reason behind him doing so.

It is almost childish of him, to sniff someone to check what secondary-sex they are, but he supposes that with how the circumstances are, he must be allowed some reprieve. Lisa smells like a mild mixture of cherries, spices, and something Youngho cannot place or name – probably, if not definitely, her own differentiating-scent. Then it hits Youngho, gently like his mother patting him awake, the trace of warmth – of fire. _Alpha_.

_Must be nice to be an alpha and to not be readily given away to a political alliance, huh_; Youngho thinks bitterly. The elevator keeps travelling upwards at the steady pace as that of any other elevator, but to Youngho it feels like it has already been an hour since he stepped in.

“Your CFO, CCO, Chief Legal Counsel, and CSO have already arrived Mrs. And Mr. Seo, and you will be meeting them once you are seated in the Conference Hall," Lisa informs Youngho’s parents and by extension, him. His parents smile and nod at her in reply, with hummed noises of acknowledgment.

The elevator stops at the thirtieth floor, Youngho notes, and Lisa steps out first followed by Youngho’s mother, his father, and lastly, himself.

“This way,” Lisa directs them through a huge glass-paned lobby towards a steel door in the wall, next to which there is a desk where another, much older woman is sitting – laptop open and a stapled bunch of papers stacked neatly by her right. She nods at the woman and opens the door for them to walk in through, only she herself does not cross the threshold. “Here,” she says before holding the door open for them.

Youngho’s parents nod at her with a smile before they walk in, however Youngho himself feels like he somehow owes her more than that, so he stops in his tracks. “Thank you,” he says to her, and she smiles in return.

“No need to thank me, Mr. Seo,” She says, voice airy and light. “Though I must tell you that sniffing someone to find out what secondary-sex they have is quite invasive.” She smiles in amusement, and Youngho notes the change in her voice, for it is more challenging now, more authoritative. It rubs him the wrong way, not quite agitating him, just making him rather uncomfortable instead.

"I'm sorry, I will try not to do it again." Youngho apologizes, completely embarrassed, and in retrospect, he should have stopped the moment he thought it was childish. But old habits die hard, don't they?

“I’d rather you practiced more discretion, Mr. Seo,” Lisa advises with a smirk instead. “You are not the only one with superior senses here, Sir.”

She walks away leaving Youngho dumbfounded, and his hand is somehow still grabbing on to the door-handle. He has no idea when that happened, so he shakes his head and walks inside the hall that awaits his presence – into the hall where his likely future awaits him.

Youngho walks with his head held high, back straight and shoulders broadened as he was taught to in the numerous etiquette classes that he’d had to take at his boarding school, where they’d been taught everything on how an alpha from an upper-class family must behave – how they should walk, how they should stand or sit, amongst many other things. _(Did betas and Omegas get the same education in their respective etiquette classes? Youngho muses.)_

_…If you will not be comfortable with yourself, people will not be comfortable around you. You **must** be confident. For anyone who lacks confidence, or the ability at the least to pretend to be so, will face infinite hardships in facing and being a part of the elite society. The upper class is filled with either powerful people, or power-hungry mongrels, and if you may not command strength then you are as good as a carpet for them to walk all over. Remember that, young ones._

When Youngho finally reaches where his parents are seated – towards the left-hand side of the huge round table, along with Junmyeon (who also happens to be the Chief Counsel for SBH), CFO Choi, CCO Park, and CSO Oh – he takes a seat for himself on the empty chair allocated for him, right between his father, and Junmyeon.

Then he takes a look at the people present in the room, eyes beginning their survey from his 10 o’ clock to the people seated right in front of him. To Youngho’s left sits Mr. Lee of LSM, along with his wife and offspring, and a small entourage of people. He nods back at the people that nod at him as a silent form of greeting.

Youngho can swear that he has seen the Lees' son somewhere that his memory fails to supply the source to, but he is almost sure he has seen the man somewhere on print. _Perhaps a tabloid_, Youngho guesses. The Lee’s son – _who might just be your husband in some time, Youngho_ – is sitting with his head ducked down, refusing to make eye-contact with anyone, and Youngho turns his gaze away before it is met.

Then he takes a look at the group sitting in front of him, which must undoubtedly be the spokespersons of JYN, and he mentally counts the number of people facing him. With barely six representatives, JYN seems to be the smallest group present at the table. Contrary to how it is actually the biggest company on the table in terms of annual turnover.

If Youngho is guessing correctly, then the brother of Ms. Nakamoto – _the male that you will perhaps be marrying if you are not as fortunate as you think you are_, his memory reminds him much to his discomfort – does not seem very happy with this arrangement either. Yet Youngho would not be able to tell so very certainly for even the Nakamoto’s _Volunteer_ is sitting with his eyes downcast, perhaps to avoid any eye-contact himself.

Ms. Nakamoto, the CEO of JYN, nods at him in acknowledgement, and he can feel her alpha establish dominance over his own immediately and effortlessly. Youngho finds it slightly weird that she is able to do that by just looking into someone’s eyes. That only goes on to show just how much more experienced and powerful she is, and truly Youngho would not want to cross her.

Malcontent with how things are looking to be, Youngho averts his own eyes instead, dreading the end of this meeting before it has even started.

It feels as though an hour has passed though it is probably minutes, that a throat being cleared is heard, loud enough and hence effectively silencing the hall that had been silent enough as it is. Youngho raises his eyes to look at the man who is about to speak, eyes landing on the face of Mr. Lee, Head of LSM Electronics.

“I’d like to thank all of the people who are sat in attendance here, as of this moment.” He says, looking at everyone in a sweep of his gaze. “Your presence means that you are also as earnest about this merge as we are, and we welcome you to LSM Electronics. We are gathered here today, to discuss the terms of this merge in the presence of our heirs apparent, so please feel free to ask any questions that you may have.” His voice is laced with finality and authority, and Youngho feels himself nodding as he sees everyone else do.

Mr. Lee speaks again, and even though his voice does not rise one octave above normal, the room is pin-drop silent and it feels like he is booming out his words. Youngho involuntarily swallows and licks his lips in anticipation.

“You may know me as the Chairman of LSM, and before we get into the heavier things, I believe that we should introduce each other to some of the most pivotal members of our company and our family that are present here with us.” Mr. Lee says and nods at all of the people sitting in front of him.

Youngho nods back at the older man, trying not to come off as uninterested right off the bat. If nothing, he needs to at least stay professional. He does not fail to notice how Mr. Lee mentions company before family, and his stomach churns something unpleasant.

Cutting off Youngho’s train of thought Mr. Lee addresses them again, looking first towards his right. “This is my wife Lee Haewon, my older child Lee Taeyeon who is also the acting CEO for LSM.” He sounds very proud at announcing that, and the pride on his face dies down a little when it comes to introducing his son _(Or maybe Youngho is reading too much into things)_.

“…And this is my younger child, Lee Taeyong, you may have seen him on the covers of fashion magazines and such, along with his manager, Ms. Kang.” At the mention of his name, Taeyong looks up and nods in the general direction, confirming Youngho’s suspicion that he is indeed avoiding meeting eyes with anyone. _Ah, now he remembers!_ No wonder Youngho felt like he had seen this man somewhere before. Isn’t he the man who was rumoured to have dated Doyoung’s now-husband Ten, some years ago?

Youngho cannot pursue that thought anymore either as Mr. Lee’s voice scratches his ears again, this time the man is looking towards his left. “These are the backbones of my company…” Youngho tunes him out for the rest of the introductions from him, as well as for the introductions from his own father, only remembering to nod when his father introduces him.

He tunes back in right when Ms. Nakamoto starts to speak. “I am Nakamoto Mitsuha, CEO of JYN, and this is my younger brother Nakamoto Yuta who works as a Professor of English Language and Literature at Seoul National University…” and Youngho tunes out the conversation yet again, only trailing after the younger Nakamoto with his eyes. Yuta looks up from his lap and quickly nods at everyone, flashing a slight upturn of his lips – evading eye-contact himself – and looks back down at his lap.

Youngho barely has time to make anything of it when his father nudges his foot, a sign for him to focus in the meeting. Youngho clears his throat under his breath and turns to face the CFO and CSO of LSM stand up and start discussing the information about the merge.

“We won’t be discussing anything that hasn’t been discussed before…” The CFO (Byun, was it?) begins with a small smile, and Youngho sees that the only ones paying full attention are himself, Taeyong and his manager, and Yuta; because they are only ones who are uninformed of the details of the merge as of yet. “… and we will try to keep everything simple seeing as some of us are not from the corporate line of business.”

And then the man and the one standing next to him, CSO Kim – _was his name?_ Youngho can vaguely recall – go on explaining how the shares are divided, what the percentage of partnership is, and the power of attorney amongst other things. Youngho also notices how they conveniently skip mentioning what is to happen if one of the companies – or to be precise, one of the _volunteers_ from the companies – decides to withdraw from this arrangement.

“So…” CSO Kim drawls, “…are there any questions that anyone wants to ask?”

Youngho is still pondering whether or not he should ask the question that he has, when the man sitting opposite to him, Nakamoto Yuta – _one of Youngho’s probable husbands –_ clears his throat. “What happens if one of the…” Yuta begins with a clear voice, “the— um…” He seems to fumble for a proper word before settling with something, and so he begins speaking again.

“Pardon my fumbling, but what happens if one of the— for the lack of a better word— _candidates, _were to _withdraw_?” Nakamoto Yuta sounds _impersonal_, for a lack of a better word on Youngho’s part. He sounds like he could not care _any_ less about what happens with this arrangement, or his life. Youngho wonders if that is indeed the case, and thinks about what could be done to somehow escape this marriage of convenience that is to the possible _(definite)_ inconvenience of all three of them involved.

“It’s good that you asked this question, Mr. Nakamoto!” CFO Byun says, more cheerily than necessary, Youngho notes how he acts kind of like a game-show host. “Well, since the partnership-percentage is 33-33-34 for LSM, JYN, and SBH respectively, if one of them withdraws, then according to the contract that has been drawn, that company forfeits their shares worth the percentage of the partnership to each of the other two companies.

“For example, let us say that LSM withdraws, and since our partnership-percentage is thirty-three percent, we will forfeit, in total, sixty-six percent of our shares. Thirty-three percent to JYN, and thirty-three percent to SBH, including the power of attorney.” CFO Byun says with twinkling eyes and a voice that is unnervingly jovial, like that of an excited child seeing their favourite thing. It is even more disturbing when you realise that he is saying that about the company where he works at himself.

Youngho’s stomach drops at receiving the information. That just means that if _he_ withdraws, he basically loses their company that his father has worked so hard to build, to LSM and JYN. All of their hard work, their blood, sweat, and tears – _gone_. Sixty-eight percent of shares, and power of attorney – _all gone_.

Youngho takes a deep breath to calm himself as he sees Nakamoto Yuta nod where he is sitting, a thoughtful expression on the latter's face. Youngho then moves his gaze to look at Lee Taeyong, who seems to be sitting as impassive as ever, eyes trained on the table's sleek surface.

_I will find a way out of this,_ Youngho tells himself. He tries not to think about how it sounds rather like consolation than determination. _I will find a way out of this without losing my company._

“And so, it has been decided that this joint enterprise be marked indissoluble by the institution of _holy matrimony_. By the nuptials between an unmarried and eligible member each from the Lee, Seo, and Nakamoto families.” CSO Kim announces, and Youngho feels his breakfast on the verge of traveling back up in anxiety.

_Nothing but a business deal_.

Something that a lot of people consider the most important day of their lives, something which is generally believed to be one of the good things in our otherwise meaningless, futile lives – a person’s chance at having a life filled with love, and family. It truly saddens Youngho that the _institution of marriage_ that is supposed to be so many things, is going to be just a part of a business deal for him.

Youngho who has always wanted a family of his own – a spouse, maybe even a child, and a healthy marriage with someone of his _own choosing_. With someone whom he has feelings for, someone he _wants_ to build a home and a family with. _Funny how all of that all seems like a pipe dream, now._

The meeting ends soon after, and Youngho watches helplessly as Yuta shoots everyone a grimace-y smile and leaves immediately, citing classes as the cause for his hurry. Taeyong follows right after with his manager, Ms. Kang, as the pretty female reasons that they have a shoot to get to. Youngho is busy shaking hands with and being polite to all the other people present there, but even he seems at a loss himself at remembering when he gets out of the hall, or even the building.

He pulls the window of his seat down as the car takes him on his way back home, the cityscape of Seoul greeting his eyes yet again, and he cannot help but think back to the other two men and how detached they seemed. He cannot help but wonder…

_What is going to become of my life?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a little diagram that my lovely biology babies haru💛 and anu💗 made for me❤  

> 
> thank you for reading! 💕


	3. watching waves at night (i fell into the blue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2 ; a glimpse into the lives of taeyong and yuta.
> 
> chapter title is taken yet again, from 'the rain' by oh wonder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning // mentions of pregnancy  
trigger warning // mentions of abortion, bad mental health day, bad thoughts
> 
> pls be careful while reading yuta's perspective. or skip the entire part if you'd rather not read it at all, take care of yourselves! your well being comes first. 💓
> 
> also a big thank you to everyone who gave this baby kudos, comments, bookmarked and subscribed. that means the world to me, thank you. ❤

"Yes, father?" Taeyong responds to the phone lying on the kitchen island on speaker-mode, while he munches on his breakfasts sluggishly. He looks at the time on his phone, and the device displays it to be 8:00 in the morning. His father calling him this early does not entail anything good, _not that his father calling him ever entails anything positive anyway_, but it is especially _troublesome_ today when Taeyong knows what it is going to be about.

“Son, I take it that you remember that the company meeting is today and that your presence is an absolute must.” His father’s stern voice echoes inside his empty apartment and Taeyong sighs quietly.

_Of course_, why else would his father call him if not to remind him of what he wants for Taeyong to do for him?

“Yes, father. I remember very well, and I will be there on time.” Taeyong says to his father, while he pokes around a piece of pancake on his plate that he has cut, beginning to slowly lose his appetite.

“On time, or just a little late. The other parties do not need to know that we are, indeed, a little at the end of our tether on the topic of your marriage. If you arrive early, that will be exactly the impression that you will be giving.” His father drawls and the barely-concealed condescension in his voice shines through. _Why try to hide it, then?_

Taeyong sighs. "Sure, father. On-time or a little late. I will keep that in mind." He says with a steeled voice, before hearing a satisfied hum come from his father. He rolls his eyes before taking a small bite of the breakfast that has now turned cold.

“The meeting starts at ten.” He hears his father say before the line goes dead.

Taeyong stares down at the screen of his phone, wondering if that hardly two-minutes long conversation was even real or if his somewhat still asleep mind dreamed that up. But then his father’s words echo inside his head yet again, and the urge to take his phone and just hurl it across the room intensifies.

_Don’t take your frustration out on an inanimate object that didn’t even do anything wrong to you, Taeyong_; he tells himself and takes his plate, emptying the mostly uneaten breakfast into the trash before heading towards the sink to wash the utensils that he used while making and having breakfast.

The frustration that he is feeling makes him scrub the dishes harder than necessary, and he snaps out of his anger and frustration only when he almost drops a plate that is too slippery with the soapy water.

_“Fuck!”_ He curses and shakes his head roughly before groaning, then stacks the wet utensils on the drying rack. He washes his hands one more time and then wipes them dry on a clean rag, and then moves back to his room to lay around in his misery for a while.

Too bad for him there is a knock on his door.

Taeyong heads to the door, sighing in disappointment that he will not get to wallow in his sadness for a while. The face that greets him the moment he opens the door is of his manager – the woman that he loves – Seulgi.

“Good Morning, Taeyong-ah.” She greets him with a beautiful smile and there goes Taeyong’s heart skipping a beat, again.

“Good morning, noona,” Taeyong mumbles, still awestruck by her beauty and holds the door wide open for her to step through into the apartment, and she does with a big cloth bag held in one of her hands, out of which Taeyong sees some steam float through.

“Noona, _please_ tell me you brought food,” Taeyong says, closing the door on his way back into the apartment, following after Seulgi who walks into his kitchen area and places the cotton bag on the kitchen island.

“I brought food…?” Seulgi trails off in an inquisitive tone, and Taeyong’s hope deflates. Simultaneously his stomach growls loud enough to be heard on the other side of the world and both he and Seulgi burst out laughing.

“Haven’t you had breakfast?” Seulgi asks once they’ve calmed down, while she begins to take out the packets inside the bag.

The food that she has brought with her smells like heaven and it is warm enough that when Taeyong takes a deep whiff, the smell is potent enough to run across his tongue in a ghost of a taste. His mouth waters and he licks his lips in anticipation of the food.

"Father called." Taeyong shrugs and Seulgi does not need to ask him anything further on that topic. She knows what kind of a man the senior Lee is, and she knows what effect he has on Taeyong’s state of mind. Even the mention of that man dampens Taeyong’s mood, and she’d rather not have any more of it today when he must see that man anyway. So she just steers the topic of their conversation to something else.

“I got you a double cheeseburger combo meal with fries and chicken nuggets on the side, and since you’re not having any soft drinks so I got you a chocolate milkshake.” She says while handing Taeyong his food and the hungry storm inside his stomach only rages before he finally tears through the packaging and takes a huge bite of the burger.

“You’re a woman after my own heart, noona.” Taeyong moans, chewing the morsel in his mouth while throwing his head back, amazed at how good it tastes. A little cheese drips from the corner of his mouth and he wipes it off and licks the cheese off of his finger.

“Whatever floats your boat, sweetie.” She drawls in her airy voice, scoffing at the younger man as he practically inhales his food and then burps in a manner that is very unbecomingly of the image that he must show to the public. Seulgi looks at him unamused and raises an eyebrow, while Taeyong simply giggles in return.

"Well then…" She murmurs through chewing a piece of her wrap or whatever that thing is, "have you showered?"

Taeyong nods. “Yeah,” He says and pinches a lock of his hair in between his thumb and forefinger to show her, “My hair’s still a little damp, see?”

Seulgi narrows her eyes in suspicion and runs her hand through Taeyong’s hair, making a face when her hand comes back out damp and sticky. She gags and wipes her hand on his shirt, and then washes her hand in the sink.

“Okay then!” Seulgi exclaims, clapping her hands so loudly Taeyong’s ear rings, “It’s almost eight-thirty now, and that means that we don’t have a lot of time to waste because the company meeting starts at ten, _which_ further means that we don’t have much time to get out of here and be on our way.” She speaks rapidly, and it takes Taeyong some long seconds to understand what she just said.

"Did father not…?" Taeyong begins to ask but cuts himself off at the last moment, because he does not want to think about his father and his words again. Seulgi looks at him in confusion for a moment, but then she raises her eyebrows and nods in understanding.

“Say anything?” She asks Taeyong in return, and when he nods, she rolls her eyes. “Your father says a lot of shit, Yongie. Doesn’t mean we have to blindly follow everything. He must be the _Founder of LSM_, but that’ll be in his office. Nevertheless, he has no business dictating what you should and shouldn’t do. _Especially _after this merge and marriage bullshit.” Seulgi shakes her head, standing tensely with her arms folded across her chest.

“So…” Taeyong draws out the syllable, licking his lips absentmindedly.

“_So_, what I’m saying is that go get dressed, we leave in the next twelve minutes. The other parties should know how ― to quote your father from this morning when he called me — _at the end of our tether we are _on the topic of your marriage, don’t you think so?” Seulgi smirks slightly and her left cheek puffs up, making her look downright adorable.

Taeyong almost bends down to give the puffy cheek a quick, soft kiss, halting only because a sudden stray thought tells him that they are not together anymore. Well, _that_ is true, but Taeyong and Seulgi have _always_ been friends first. Besides, Taeyong is nothing if not physically affectionate with his friends, so he gives in to the urge, bends down a bit to get face-level with Seulgi, and presses a noisy peck to her squishy cheek.

“Twelve minutes is oddly specific,” He says grinning and watches in amusement as Seulgi rubs her kissed cheek with a grimace.

“And yet you’re standing here, wasting them.” She deadpans and huffs, “Just go and get dressed, we can just talk on the fuckin’ way.”

“Oh, so bossy,” Taeyong says teasingly while he begins walking towards his bedroom, and laughs when he hears Seulgi’s reply of _‘get outta here loser.’_

Taeyong changes into presentable clothes quickly and gets back to Seulgi who is waiting for him on the living room couch dressed sharply herself and looking so well put together that even Taeyong is envious ― and he is known as the _Ice Prince_ by the media for his incredibly put-together image that is also, seemingly impenetrable.

“Actually done before the twelve minutes are over,” Seulgi smiles in surprise, looking Taeyong up and down to gauge his appearance. “Good boy!” She praises when she is satisfied with his choice of outfit, and then gets off of the couch.

“Thanks, I don’t try.” Taeyong drawls to make her laugh and Seulgi mimes hysterical laughter before she bares her teeth acting like she’d backhand him. Taeyong is the one who ends up laughing ‘til his eyes water and his stomach hurts.

"Oh, what are you doing with your life modelling Taeyong-ssi? You should be a comedian." Seulgi pretend-patronises him and rolls her eyes yet again. She also adds in a very fake laugh at the end, so that she sounds like most of the condescending sycophants that they meet _everywhere_. It is ironic and laughable because while they try to kiss Taeyong’s ass in order to be in his good books (and possibly by extension, his father’s), these are also the people who look down on Taeyong for refusing to take care of the family’s business — and they have a hard time hiding their disapproval of him and his job.

_Well, fuck them_. Seulgi thinks and shakes her head dismissively, deciding not to give any more time of her day to the people the likes of them.

“With my sense of humour?” Taeyong asks rhetorically, with a smile. “How about no?” He side-steps Seulgi as they get out the apartment and he locks it, after which they both head towards the elevator.

“Your sense of humour isn’t even _that_ bad,” Seulgi says matter-of-factly, while both of them walk into the empty elevator and she presses the button for the parking area.

“Noona, the other day I cried laughing because I saw a photo of a white dog biting a black one — though I have a feeling it was only scruffing the other while playing around or something — because the white one was captioned _‘another one’_ while the black one, _‘the dust’_.” Taeyong scoffs, remembering how he also spilt coffee on his bedsheet because he couldn’t stop wheezing from laughter. He snickers and simultaneously grimaces even at the memory of it. The elevator dings and the door opens when they reach their destination, and they begin to walk towards Seulgi’s car.

Seulgi snorts and purses her lips to not laugh. “A-plus-plus sense of humour.” She giggles anyway and unlocks her car and they both get in. She waits until Taeyong puts on his seatbelt and then she jams the key into ignition.

“So what’s our schedule for today?” Taeyong asks while Seulgi backs the car, her eyes trained on the rear-view mirror. She opens her mouth to answer but then gasps as she narrowly avoids ramming into someone who comes riding a fancy motorcycle out of nowhere. 

“Fuck, that was close!” Seulgi curses and stops the car right where it stands, handing the keys and her wristwatch to Taeyong. “Back the car while I give this little bitch a piece of my fuckin’ mind,” She spits out and before Taeyong can stop her, she’s out of the car.

Taeyong takes a deep breath through his nose, first and foremost. Is this actually happening or is this just an anxiety-induced fever dream? Taeyong decides to question that and his sanity later, after he’s done taking the car out of the parking area, so he shifts over the console to the driver’s seat, makes good use of the keys and starts the car.

After the car is out of the nightmare that is parallel parking, Taeyong spares a glance at whatever is happening back there with Seulgi and the motorcycle-rider; and it seems like there is some heated debate going on between her and someone he cannot really see because of the other cars blocking his view. He just hopes that she hasn’t hit that person, given that she left her wristwatch with him. She only does that when she is about to physically fight someone. Taeyong chuckles to himself, _a lawsuit won’t be funny, Taeyong_.

He watches as Seulgi stomps back red-faced, so he shifts back into the passenger seat to give the driver’s seat back to her. “Everything okay?” He asks her once she is seated into the driver’s seat and is starting the car again, and she bristles in irritation.

“Who the _fuck_ does she think she is?” She fumes as she steers them out of the residential complex, taking a very unnecessarily sharp and fast turn by the gate that has Taeyong helplessly trying to grab at the dashboard for some semblance of support.

"Noona, I get that you're annoyed," Taeyong says carefully, not wanting to incur Seulgi's wrath on himself, "but you and I are both too young to die today. Please be careful and not-angry while driving." He pleads and sees Seulgi sigh deeply. She nods in understanding and slows the car down to an acceptable speed.

“You’re right, you’re right. Sorry about that.” She apologises while chuckling, and Taeyong releases a sigh full of self-reassurance. He sends extra thanks to the Gods above when he sees that just moments later they approach a red light.

"Right, so what were you asking me?" Seulgi asks while focusing on the road ahead. Taeyong finds it difficult to take his eyes off of her, and he cannot help but stare because she looks so beautiful even when she is driving that his heart aches.

He wants to kiss her, wants to hold her. Wants to be kissed by her, to be held by her. Wants to be like they used to, before all of this. Like they haven’t been for the last half a year. He is in love with her, and she is in love with him, but both of them are too altruistic to be together even when it is what they want the most.

"Just wanted to know about our agenda today," Taeyong mumbles, shaking his head. The more he thinks about what he cannot have with Seulgi anymore, the more pain and heartbreak he subjects himself to.

“Oh,” Seulgi hums, taking another turn, while her eyes stay fixed on the road the whole time. “Right, so first we have the meeting at LSM that starts at ten and will probably go on ’til one in the afternoon, though I hope it finishes earlier ’cause we have your shoot with _Harper’s Bazaar _starting at two. And that’s pretty much it for today.”

“Oh okay,” Taeyong breathes in understanding. So if he can give good shots quickly and finish the shoot fast, he can spend more time with Seulgi. He can also get more time to rest up, roll around in his misery, and mentally prepare himself for this stupid marriage of convenience or whatever.

They reach the tall blue glass building of LSM Electronics’ Seoul Headquarters exactly seventeen minutes to ten, and on recognising Taeyong a valet rushes to grab their car keys at once. Seulgi hands the boy the keys while she and Taeyong both head inside the building, with her walking in front.

On walking in, the receptionist greets Taeyong, and from beside the reception Lisa waves at him before mouthing _‘top floor’_. Taeyong smiles at her in thanks and nods in greeting, then gets in the VIP elevator that is reserved for family and high-ranked officials.

He presses the button for the top floor and stands close to the elevator wall, taking in a deep breath hoping to alleviate his stress. It helps a little, so he takes some more deep breaths in order to maintain a façade of peace and calm. _‘Yongie, are you okay?’_ He can indistinctly hear Seulgi asking, and he breathes out an _I’m fine_ to her.

_It’s okay, Taeyong. Calm down. Whatever happens, happens. C’est la vie_. He chants repeatedly to himself as he watches the number on the elevator’s floor counter go up, up, up, as they do. Seulgi has taken to gently rubbing his back to help him feel at peace, and Taeyong thanks her softly before clearing his throat and putting on his signature public-face — a cool and composed expression with little to no smiles whatsoever.

Once they reach the top floor, they greet the other receptionist outside the Conference Hall. Taeyong takes in a deep breath. _This is it. Life and fate, and all other bullshit, here I come._

The meeting finishes in what feels like a millisecond and a year all at the same time. Taeyong resolutely avoids making eye contact with _anyone_ present in the room and around the table, much less the other _candidates_ of this arrangement. Thanks to Seulgi and his stars above, he is out of that dreadful room sooner than he had thought possible.

Taeyong’s mind throughout the ride to the location of the shoot and even through the shoot itself is plagued with everything that he has had to hear in the meeting. The things that are at stake, the repercussions that will be faced by the company whose candidate were to refuse to marry the other two, and he is almost convinced that there is no getting out of this for the rest of their lives.

God, he will probably never get used to the idea of being married to two people. Even though, ever since he was a child he was made to get accustomed to the idea of being married off to an alpha, and of being their spouse; this is not just an alpha that he will be marrying.

There is an alpha and a beta that he has been presented with, and the two men he must marry.

_He must._

There is no question. He has no choice. He knows he does not. However, on the brighter side, he has nothing to lose either. It’s not like he and Seulgi are still together, that he will have to leave her. Besides, she is betrothed to someone of whose identity and existence she has no idea of, the only thing she knows about them being their name.

So what is the worst that could happen?

Nothing that comes up in Taeyong’s mind. He is pretty sure that not even one of the other two is foolish enough to refuse this arrangement because the stakes involved are too high. No one wants to lose more than fifty percent of their company, their hard work, and their lives that have gone into bringing their company to the position that it holds today, to someone else.

So he knows for certain that none of the other two candidates will even dream about withdrawing. He will not back out himself because he will not take the company away from his older sister who has fought tooth and nail with his father to become the CEO that she is today. _Taeyeon deserves more than that._

So unless they can find a way out of this arrangement without having to destroy their companies, marrying the other two seems like the only viable option. Which brings Taeyong to the other vital question: _How in the world does a three-way marriage work?_

_“And that’s a wrap!”_ He hears the photographer declare with a loud clap, which is what snaps him back to his senses.

Taeyong bows in respect and the middle-aged man nods, chuckles and pats him on the back. "Amazing job, as usual, Taeyong-ssi!” And with that, he grabs his camera and leaves the room.

The journey from the set, to the dressing room where he changes out of his clothes and make-up, and then to Seulgi’s car is a motion blur in Taeyong’s head. He barely pays any attention to what music is playing from the car’s music player, or what part of the city they are passing through.

“Ya Yongie!” Seulgi’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts once again and he jerks back into the present moment.

“Sorry, you were saying?” He asks confusedly, and Seulgi gives him a side glance.

"You did well at the shoot today, but you were very out of it. I know that life is not very easy for you right now, Yongie, but you cannot let that hinder your performance. Remember to keep your personal life separate from your professional.” She says sternly, and Taeyong grimaces.

“Sorry noona, won’t happen again.” He mumbles. “Was it too obvious?” He asks worriedly.

“It’s okay, just be more careful. And no, you weren’t that obvious. I just know you well enough to know that you’re too preoccupied to give your best to the job.” She replies, looking straight ahead at the traffic.

“Oh and one more thing! I’m meeting with the CCO’s and CSO’s of LSM, SBH, and JYN tomorrow to discuss this whole marriage of convenience thing and how we should go about it, given that you’re someone that the media is constantly covering. So whatever we discuss and decide, I will let you know. I want you to mentally prepare yourself because in the upcoming times you're going to have to lie a lot. Lies such that the media or the internet won’t, and _shouldn’t_ be able to see through.” She explains, and Taeyong nods rapidly.

“Sure noona, my schedule is clear for the time being, right?” He asks, rubbing his face with both of his hands.

“Yeah, it is. Though it will become busy soon, once you start getting seen with the other two and the news of you marrying them comes to light.” Seulgi informs, and Taeyong sighs deeply for what is probably the hundredth time today.

He wants to sleep, needs it even, for preferably the next thirty hours or so. _That’s like, a mild coma,_ his brain helpfully supplies. _Sounds nice enough_, he decides. Now, if only he could get to bed, and get to sleep.

That way he would not have to think about this anymore.

//

“And that’s it for today’s class, please make sure you submit your assignment topics to me by this Friday.” Yuta announces to his Master’s batch, and everyone choruses out a ‘sure, professor!’ like school-children in cheerful voices before they grab their things and start leaving the classroom.

Yuta is collecting his things to leave (as he is done for the day) when a figure approaches his table.

“Professor Nekomoto!” Final-Year Paediatrics-Major Na Jaemin greets him with a pretty smile that causes Yuta to smile himself.

“Yes, Jaemin-ah?” Yuta asks him in reply, while he stacks the notes that he has made for this class into a neat bundle.

“I was wondering if, for the assignment, I may do a thematic analysis of William Blake’s poems in the light of some major _or minor_ characteristics of the Victorian era?” He asks, looking at Yuta with an adorable puppy face that melts Yuta’s heart.

“It sounds interesting, given that Blake is a prominent romantic poet and we are studying about the Victorian Era right now, I think it ought to be a very fascinating analysis if you manage to work it out.” Yuta mulls over the topic and immediately finds points where this analysis might not work out very well, but he wants to give the boy a fighting chance for his assignment.

He is more than aware that Na Jaemin is nothing if not one of the hardest working students of his batch, so he puts on a comforting smile and looks up at the boy. "So, have you thought of a theme yet?" He asks and picks his things up to start walking.

“Yes hyung!” Jaemin bounces on his feet and his now fading pink hair bounces atop his head along with him. The sight is adorable and coupled with Jaemin's heart-melting grin, Yuta cannot help but smile warmly.

Jaemin falls into step with him, walking into the same direction as him. “I was thinking of exploring the depiction of Sexuality with reference to the notions of Victorian Morality, Sexual Oppression of Women with reference to Victorian Masculinity, as well as the Virgin-Whore Dichotomy or the categorisation of a woman’s character restricted within either the _Angel in the house _or _the Devil in the flesh_ characteristic.”

Yuta processes what Jaemin just said, and hums. “Well, it seems to me like you have it all figured out. Let me know if you need any help, okay? I’m looking forward to reading your assignment. And please, be creative with it.” He says to the younger boy who nods rapidly in excitement.

“Sure, hyung!” Jaemin chirps with twinkling eyes and a skip in his step. However, his smile drops soon and concern covers his face. “Hyung, if you don’t mind me asking… Are you okay? You looked a little tense the whole time…” He asks gently, afraid of offending Yuta or of overstepping his boundaries.

Yuta sighs quietly, then puts on a fake smile for the boy. “Yes, Nana. I’m fine, but thank you for asking.” He says as they both reach the staff room. “Now off you go, little one!” Yuta chirps, patting Jaemin’s hair. Jaemin blushes and waves at him before turning around and walking away.

Yuta sighs once again and then walks inside the room to collect his bag. Once he does that, he grabs the satchel and leaves the cabin after greeting his colleagues. On his way to the parking lot, he dials the number of his best friend and fellow Professor of Linguistics, who picks up quickly. “Taeil hyung, do you want me to drive you today?”

“Yes please!” Taeil replies cheerfully from the other end of the line, making Yuta chuckle under his breath.

“Okay hyung, I’m waiting for you outside of the university’s gate. Be here soon.” He tells the older man and begins driving to the mentioned point of rendezvous.

“Give me five minutes!” The older twitters happily before he hangs up.

Once Yuta reaches outside the main gates of the establishment he stops his car by the external parking area, and he does not have to wait for too long before he sees his best friend walking towards him from the opposite direction.

“Hey,” Taeil greets him when he opens the door and gets inside the car. He keeps his messenger bag in the backseat and begins putting his seatbelt on. Yuta greets him back softly, starts the car again and starts driving out of the external parking area. Noticing how quiet Yuta is, Taeil begins to play on his phone silently.

“How was your day?” Yuta asks Taeil once they are on the road, and Taeil instantly brightens on hearing him having a decent mood.

“It was cool! The students and I had a lot of laughs today.” Taeil says while adjusting himself in the seat to face Yuta. “How was yours?” He asks, keeping his phone on the dashboard and clasping his hands together.

Well, how should Yuta answer that? From what went on in the morning at the cursed company meeting at LSM and then the _talking to_ that he got from his sister about not even thinking of taking the out from the arrangement, to his student catching on to his sour mood, he cannot say for sure if the day was bad or just… _terrible_.

“It was… eventful.” Is what he settles for.

Taeil hums, no-doubt trying to comprehend what Yuta means by that, but he sounds adorable enough that Yuta has half a heart to squish his cheeks for being so cute, though he also kind of wants slap the absolute shit out of him because he does not know how to deal with Taeil being so endearing.

“Do you want to tell me?” Taeil asks after a pause. He is looking at Yuta with wide, inquisitive eyes, and then he smiles prettily. On some other occasion, maybe Yuta would be unable to resist him, would tell him everything. But today is not that day.

“Probably another time, hyung," Yuta replies, looking straight ahead as he makes a left turn. “I just… It’s hard for me to talk about it, and I also can’t right now because I don’t think if I’m even allowed to mention this. But I will talk to you about it when the time is right.” He clarifies as they stop at a red light.

Taeil nods in positive acknowledgement and turns in the passenger to face the street in front of him.

“It’s okay, tell me about whatever it is when you’re comfortable enough to, and allowed to, as well." He says before he leans his head on Yuta’s shoulder.

Taeil then releases soothing pheromones in the air to comfort Yuta without him even having to ask, and Yuta is eternally grateful for that. The omega’s smell of calm washes over Yuta like a cold shower that both cleanses and soothes him, so he takes in another deep lungful of the scent and hums.

“Thank you,” He says to the older of the two of them, and he can feel Taeil smile without having to see it.

"That's what friends are for," Taeil says and yawns softly. “Besides if you’re really grateful, you should come over sometime. Did you know Jungwoo’s into his fifth month already? Man, time passes so quickly! And did you know that my baby is absolutely glowing? Ah, I love him so much…” The older sighs blissfully, surely thinking about his boyfriend who is pregnant with their child. Yuta smiles at the thought.

While Taeil and Jungwoo constantly suffer backlash from closed-minded people — mostly from the senior generation and oftentimes their own — for being an omega-omega mated couple, or people feeling that Jungwoo is too young to bear a child _(the younger is twenty-five and an assistant professor of World History currently on parental-leave)_; what people seem to forget is that not only are Taeil and Jungwoo well-functioning _adults_, it is also _their_ life and literally, only their decisions that matter about what they do or don’t, and that people can love whomever they want to – a person’s primary or secondary-sex has absolutely nothing to do with whomever they fall in love with.

“It still feels like yesterday when you guys announced that you were pregnant,” Yuta sighs, thinking back to the day when Taeil and Jungwoo made the announcement of their pregnancy over a family dinner.

Yuta remembers himself whistling and then clapping loudly, and giving Jungwoo a big kiss on his forehead. He remembers Taeil's mother crying immediately and remembers having to console her because the lady could not stop sobbing in happiness. He remembers Jungwoo's fathers getting teary-eyed, lifting Jungwoo in their arms and throwing him up in the air, and then catching him, much to the horror of everyone else. Yuta chuckles at the memory.

“Maybe I _should_ visit you guys soon,” He murmurs and Taeil shoots him a fond, smug look that says _I told you so_, and Yuta rolls his eyes in equally matched affection.

After dropping Taeil off, Yuta drives back to his apartment in silence that is only distracted by the soft music playing in his car. Once he reaches the residential complex, he parks his car in the parking lot and takes the elevator to his floor.

Walking into his apartment he is hit with the comforting scent of what makes his home, _home_. It is a mixture of the sandalwood incense that he burns in the morning whenever he prays, of the vinegar of the pickle that he is trying to make, and of the lavender-scented Febreze that he uses almost religiously. Of the _‘gentle’_ disinfectant that he mops his floors with, and of freshly washed sheets.

Yuta takes a deep breath and releases it slowly while he walks to the bedroom. Dropping his bag by his table, he heads to the bathroom to quickly refresh himself with a shower and finishes this monotonous part of his routine on autopilot. It hits him suddenly – though not for the first time, in the middle of rubbing his hair dry with the fluffy towel: He is not _living. _

That _this_ is not living. It is not even _surviving_, because survival suggests that there is some sort of fight being put up in order to make it through the day. Yuta is just drifting, merely existing. Because he is not dead yet, has not stopped breathing yet. He simply _exists_ because he has given up on whatever _living_ is.

And once upon a time, it would have saddened him. It would have saddened him to the ends of the earth to not _live_ anymore, to be unable to even feel _alive_ anymore; but those days are long gone. They left him as Sicheng did.

Yuta blinks back the sudden tears that cloud his vision out of nowhere and looks at himself in the mirror. What he sees makes the tears fall, anyway. He is wearing Sicheng's hoodie that he'd stolen way back when, and it is so big on him. He remembers the last time he wore it, a month after Sicheng's wedding, with a pregnancy test in his palm that displayed two red lines, one fainter than the other.

He remembers rushing to his sister who brought her trusted doctor in with a signed agreement of confidentiality, he remembers getting his blood and urine getting tested. He remembers refusing to take the hoodie off even at the time of the ultrasound, and he remembers the doctor informing them that he is seven weeks pregnant.

He remembers sobbing. He remembers Mitsuha hugging him with all the love she has in her heart for him. He remembers her carefully asking him if he wants to keep the child. He remembers sobbing out a no. He remembers saying that the child will forever be a reminder of a life he will never get to have and that he'd rather die than to live with half of Sicheng, without Sicheng there.

He remembers the doctor telling them the next morning that baby is very weak, and will probably not make it through the second trimester. He remembers feeling a sick and twisted sense of delight, because it just means that he would not have to feel the guilt at terminating the pregnancy. He can still feel the ghost of that relief run through his body, like showering with water that is so cold that it feels hot, and leaves him feeling weightless.

_Am I a horrible person? _It is a question that will haunt him for a long time, if not forever. He killed the child he had fathered with the man he loved. _You killed your child, Yuta. You’re a terrible, terrible person. You will never find redemption._

Yuta exhales shakily as he wraps his arms around himself, trying to block out the memories. He does not want to remember. Sicheng is his past, and that is exactly where Sicheng, and anything related to him should stay and be. Yuta should, instead, think about what he wants to do with this marriage of convenience, and what he wants to do about and with the other two men.

With how things had gone in the meeting earlier today, Yuta is fairly sure that the Seo and Lee _candidates_ are opposed to this marriage. However, he is not very sure how he should feel about this, because them being unhappy with this agreement just means that there is something in their lives worth them not wanting to be involved in this.

_Must be nice to have something in their lives that is worth fighting for_, he thinks, however, not without a fair share of bitterness.

Besides, Yuta is also quite sure that the other two are disturbed by the idea of marrying not one, but two strangers. How does he feel about that? Marrying an alpha and an omega? A ménage à trois, or a three-way-marriage as they call it. Yuta is not any against it as he is for it.

_It is what it is, even if it is shit._

What is the worst that can happen, anyway? Besides the three of them being stuck in a loveless, dysfunctional marriage for the probable rest of their lives? Political marriages resulting negatively for the people involved is nothing new, and Yuta will truly not be surprised if he also ends up as a part of one such arrangement. _Such is my luck,_ he muses.

An alpha, beta, and omega marrying each other… _What a joke!_ Once the alpha and omega’s inner wirings recognize each other as mates, nobody is going to care what happens to the insignificant little beta that Yuta is. Yuta will again, just end up being the one who is left behind.

Perhaps…

_Perhaps_, that is not so bad after all…

_I’m just one of the people who have terrible luck with love_, he thinks resignedly.

Once upon a time, Yuta had dreamed of happy endings.

Happy endings that included him marrying the love of his life and of possibly bearing their child… But _this is not a fairy-tale_. He will not get a prince on a white horse to come and sweep him off of his feet. Angels will not sing in the background of his love story, and as he leads a life full of love and happiness and comfort with his significant other and their children.

What he is going to get and will have to accept is: Two men he knows nothing of and about, who are being roped into a political arrangement just the way he is. Who are also, possibly unwilling to be a part of this sham, and with having to find his ending with them. It is not fair by any means, but _it_ _is_ life.

_Life is not fair._

_And that’s just how it is_, the thought floats through his mind as he falls in bed.

Sleep could not come sooner to a body that has given up its fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you're the moon, and so so worth it. i love you. don't be too hard on yourself babies, you're trying the best you can. (even if you aren't, it's okay because you're only human.)
> 
> thank you for reading babies! hope you enjoyed! 💘
> 
> -min 🌸💕


	4. (over time) there'll be nothing left to lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3: youngho asks his friend(s) for help.
> 
> chapter title from the rain by oh wonder (yet mf again holy shit).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> none of this is beta'ed, i'm sorry, and i hope you like this. 💓

“Wow…” The man on the other side of the screen exhales slowly, his facial expression torn between a smile and a grimace. He opens his mouth and closes it again, much resembling a fish out of water, and Youngho has half a heart to coo over the younger man.

He does not realise that urge, only because Doyoung will just hang up on him if he did. Youngho needs Doyoung's help, not only because he is his best friend, but also because he is the only other person that Youngho knows who was once in the same situation as his.

So, no. He will coo at his best friend later.

“Yeah…” Youngho mirrors his friend’s sigh and runs his hand through his hair. It has been two days since the _very helpful _meeting at the LSM building, and Youngho has had trouble sleeping since then. The prospect of having to marry someone — _two someones, Youngho_ — he knows nothing about is terrifying. More so especially when he does not even know if he is attracted to the same primary-sex or not.

Well, there is the fact that he could just google Lee Taeyong and know whatever he wants to, about him. But he knows that the internet can never be fully trusted, and most of the information there, if not all of it, is inaccurate unless they are direct statements from the man himself. 

Even then, the facts may be fallacious because every person in the showbiz has a stage persona, one that they must keep up at all times, at any likely cost. Which means that sadly for Youngho, there is no way for him to know about the Lee candidate, unless they get to know each other themselves.

And then there is Nakamoto Yuta, brother of one of the richest women in Asia, who chooses to live like a commoner and away from the spotlight. It is not a bad thing by any means. When it comes down to it, Youngho is almost envious of him, if he must be honest.

The world’s fascination with a corporate celebrity knows very less bounds. But it is only because the younger Nakamoto did not choose to succeed his sister in the family business, that he remains obscure to the media. There is no search engine where Youngho will find details about him. No Wikipedia page to help him with the enigma that is the Japanese man.

“So that is a lot to take in…” Doyoung hums, continuing, “…And not to toot my own horn, but you came to the right person, hyung.” He grins through the iPad screen making Youngho roll his eyes affectionately.

“Yeah, okay, Modest-Man of the Year,” Youngho scoffs, “Now please, can we come to the part where you actually help me?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

“Okay hyung, chill the fuck out for a minute.” Doyoung sighs good-naturedly and then checks a print-out of the document that Youngho had emailed him earlier in the day. The man quickly runs a glance through the bunch of papers while chewing on the corner of his bottom lip in concentration.

“Hm,” He begins, flapping the papers about, “First of all, I need to meet the person who made this contract. They have my endless respect. Second, hyung… I have no other polite or softer way to tell you this, but if this _is_ the original contract with no amendments whatsoever, and you’re _not_ pranking me… then you’re _fucked_. And I say this with nothing but love, and adoration, and respect in my heart for you.” When he sees Youngho about to respond, he holds his hand up to pause him.

“Which brings me to my third point, this contract is absolutely impossible to get out of, hence whoever drafted this is infinitely blessed by the God of Drafting Contracts. And coming from me that is a compliment because I _am_ the God of Drafting Contracts. So, all I can say to you at this point is, congratulations on your upcoming wedding, and also that three-way-marriages, or arranged ones, aren’t half as bad as you think they are.” Doyoung finishes with a reassuring smile.

Youngho does not feel an ounce reassured, and something tells him that this is what the younger wanted to say all along, anyway, so he tries to pretend that he did not hear the last part of his monologue.

“What do you mean this contract is _absolutely_ impossible to get out of?” Youngho asks the first question that he can think of once Doyoung’s mini-speech is over. Doyoung, his best friend throughout high school and college – who is also known to the corporate world as Kim Dongyoung, hotshot lawyer who owns his private firm in Chicago – is one of the best finance lawyers in the _world_.

And if _he_ says that Youngho is _fucked_, then Youngho guesses that is that.

“Well, if I look at it from a professional point of view, I am pretty fucking sure that none of the companies will go public with the merge until— well— until at least after your wedding. In which case, if the wedding does not happen then all, then all the money invested goes down the drain. And if it is only you who is against it, then you already know what happens to SBH if you opt to withdraw.” Doyoung explains, and Youngho’s heart plummets when he is reminded of the repercussions that his company will have to face if he were to withdraw.

“Additionally, if all three of you try to be smartasses, and get married just to keep mistresses or have extra-marital affairs, then I must remind you that hyung, not only the Senior Lee, but your parents as well, are very traditional, and to an extent, orthodox people. _Very rigid _about their beliefs. What do you think is gonna happen if they find out that you guys are being unfaithful? Everything will go down in flames, and nothing will save your reps, or your companies anymore.” Doyoung’s words feel like the final nail in the coffin to make Youngho believe that _this is it_.

_This is their fate_.

Three complete strangers, marrying each other only and only out of obligation, stuck in what will in all likelihood be a loveless, sad excuse of a marriage, and yet unable to just walk out because of all that is on the line.

And the part that is currently the most problematic to Youngho, the fact that he does not even know if he is even attracted to males to start with.

“Well, there is only one way I can see out of this, and even that one is that you marry your lover-boys, stay married and faithful to them for a couple of years – at least two to three years, hyung, at least until this merge will have some results and a future, whether good or bad – and then you three _part ways on mutually agreed upon terms, with all the love and respect for each other in your hearts_, unless you know, you actually want to stay together,” Doyoung suggests, scratching his stubble.

Well, is that not a lot easier to say than to do?

So, if he wants to save his company with little to no damages, he will have to marry Lee Taeyong and Nakamoto Yuta. He will have to _marry_ Lee Taeyong and Nakamoto Yuta, _stay_ married to them for at least _two years_, and only then can he separate from them with his company out of the dangerous waters.

“So, you’re saying that I marry them.” Youngho breathes out shakily.

He sounds defeated to himself.

“To save your company, yes,” Doyoung replies, nodding rapidly.

“Dons,” Youngho pleads to his friend, not knowing what for.

“Johnny hyung,” Doyoung sighs yet again from the other side of the screen.

“What am I going to do?” Youngho asks, and the edge in his voice at this point is not vexation, anymore. It is something very close to resignation. He pinches the bridge of his nose and then rubs his temple, trying to will away the headache that has found residence in his skull as of late.

“I can only tell you that marrying two other men when I had no other choice but to, and under a contract that I couldn’t get out of…” Doyoung begins, taking a deep breath to steady himself, “…It wasn’t easy for me. And maybe it won’t be for you either. I was even convinced that I was as straight as they came. And you know how much I hated Tennie at the beginning of our marriage. Add to it that Kun hyung was the only one who actually even wanted to make our marriage work. Can you guess how much work it has taken us?”

Youngho blinks hard to focus better at Doyoung’s face through the video that blurs sometimes. He often forgets that Doyoung marriage to his husbands that seems like a garden of roses now was so tumultuous in the beginning. Doyoung would be drinking every other day just to drown out the frustration and anger he would feel because of the marriage, and because of the silly arguments and fights he would have with Ten.

“There’s not a lot that I don’t know about your marriage…” Youngho starts, unsure of how to ask what he wants to, without being too nosy — even though Doyoung is his best friend, and would not hesitate to tell him the nittiest and grittiest of details. When he sees Doyoung nod, he continues. “But… Now that I’m in a similar situation… How– How did you make your marriage work?”

“Before I go on answering that, I’m glad that you’re at least giving a thought to making this work, instead of just completely detaching yourself or hating the other guys right off the bat like I did,” Doyoung says, chuckling at the end, but he sounds very grateful. Almost as if he is grateful to Youngho for considering this, for not following his mistakes.

“I mean… I don’t think I have any other options than to try to be on good terms… with– with the other two whom I’ll be and have to stay married to… So, I guess that’s what and how it’s gonna be.” Youngho murmurs, the fight leaving his body as he buries his face in his covers.

He exhales, the sound muffled by the soft fabric of the sheets, and hears another sigh from Doyoung. He looks up at the screen and finds Doyoung looking at him understandingly — or consolingly(?) Youngho cannot be too sure. But before he can tell Doyoung to stop looking at him in that manner, he hears the sound of a door opening, coming from Doyoung’s side of the screen.

He sees Doyoung’s entire expression change in under a second, his face going from understanding to delighted and lovesick instantaneously. Youngho does not need to wonder what the cause of his friend’s elation is for long because soon enough the screen-space is invaded by two other people – by Doyoung’s husbands Kun and Ten, to be precise.

_“Good Morning, baby.” “Morning, baobei.” _

Youngho watches _(feeling like a creeper, he is not going to lie) _as Doyoung’s husbands give him kisses in greeting, and Doyoung gives each of them a kiss of his own. Ten sits himself on Doyoung’s lap and nuzzles his neck, which Doyoung seems to love because he rests his cheek against his husband’s hair and nuzzles back. Kun just looks at both of his husbands with a besotted gaze, then gently strokes Doyoung’s cheek with his fingertips.

Youngho hides his face in his covers again, feeling shy of the unintentional affectionate display in front of him. His mind replays the scene he just witnessed, on a loop, and yet he cannot find it in himself to ignore the love that he saw on Doyoung’s face, in Ten’s skin-ship, or the most potent one — in Kun’s eyes.

It astounds Youngho – to see how long a way Doyoung has come. How long a way Doyoung’s attitude towards his marriage and his husbands has come. Doyoung, who once used to lose his temper at the barest mention of his marriage, or of the other two; is so in love with them now, as they are with him.

How do you completely alter a dynamic, like that?

_No, forget that_, Youngho thinks, _how do you fall in love with a person? Or, two of them?_

Youngho looks up at the screen when he hears his name being called, only then realising that he had dozed off for a little bit there. _Well, as long my eyes closed for a while_, he thinks as he yawns softly. He finds Doyoung, Ten, and Kun, all looking at him in concern so he puts on a smile and greets them politely.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Ten asks him, still sitting in Doyoung’s lap, now with Doyoung’s chin perched on his shoulder. They look adorable, and Youngho’s heart skips a beat at the vision that the three in front of him create — of warmth and happiness, of love, and family.

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” Youngho nods from where his chin rests on his hands, and chuckles for show, knowing that the dark circles under his eyes, as well as his tired face, must reveal him as being anything but. Ten and Kun are respectful enough to not mention the physical signs of his exhaustion.

Kun seems to take notice that Doyoung and Youngho were in the midst of a conversation, so he smiles at Youngho.

“We’ll leave you two to your devices, hyung,” The younger alpha says addressing Youngho, and Youngho smiles at him gratefully. “Tennie can help me make breakfast.”

Ten appears to understand what Kun is implying, so he gets off of Doyoung’s lap, “See you in a while baby,” He says to Doyoung before kissing his cheek and blowing a kiss at the screen. “I heard something down the grapevine, Johnny hyung. You’ll keep me updated, won’t you?” He says knowingly with a cute smirk, before Kun scoffs, “Come on, baobei, let’s go.” The eldest of the other three says before he kisses Doyoung’s temple and pulls Ten away with him.

Doyoung breathes out, shrugging his shoulders in a way that is just completely _saturated_ with the love he feels for his partners. Youngho wonders how that is even _possible_ — to love someone so much that even your body language expresses your feelings for them.

“Right, back to the topic at hand,” Doyoung straightens up in his chair and looks at Youngho, “How I made my marriage work…” he trails off. Youngho nods in anticipation, rubbing his eye wearily.

“Well, hyung, it all comes down to whether or not you want to _make it work_," Doyoung says resting his face on his palm. His hair falls on his forehead in soft-looking waves, and it makes him look like a puppy, making Youngho want to coo at him, yet again. Youngho, knowing better, keeps his mouth shut.

He looks at Doyoung in mild confusion, because how will he do that if he does not know if he’s even attracted to the other two or not? Doyoung purses his lips and casts a deadpan look at Youngho.

“Johnny hyung, you stupid walnut! It just means that you have to let them in.” Doyoung groans, dragging his hands down his face. “Just– Just be respectful, okay? Try to be on friendly terms with the other two, because even if your marriage isn’t successful, you’ll probably gain lifelong friends in them. You don’t have to fall in love with them to stay with them, you know?”

Youngho nods, listening patiently, so Doyoung continues.

“You have to consider that you’re probably not the only one who is taking part in this even if you don’t want to. You must remember that they have their completely different lives, and their completely different reasons for doing this, or for not doing this. You also have to consider the fact that just because you don’t have a romantic past, does not mean that they don’t either.” Doyoung exhales slowly. Youngho gulps as he tries to process the information.

“I, for one, was so disturbed by Ten’s past as a Casanova. _You know _how hard it was for me to trust him and his sincerity when he said he wanted to try with us. Maybe I should’ve had a better attitude about it, maybe things happened the way they did because that was what worked for us. Perhaps if Kun hyung wasn't the ever-patient one, Ten and I would've long separated and never seen each other for anything more than our first impressions.” Doyoung shrugs, too aggressively for it to seem casual. Youngho stares at the screen in front of him, nodding along with every word that Doyoung says.

“You’re still at an advantage here, hyung. You’re not sure if you’re attracted to males or not, which is still better than being convinced that you’re straight. Unlike me. Besides, sexualities are fluid, and the sooner we accept that, the better it is for us. You don’t have to be attracted to a particular sex to be attracted to someone of that sex.” Doyoung declares, and Youngho finds himself nodding rapidly.

He can see why Doyoung makes such a good lawyer, because he is very logical and convincing. Besides, wanting to refute his thoroughly rational statement with illogical beliefs will only make a person feel and look like an idiot.

“What– What about the _‘falling in love with them’_ part?” Youngho asks, a little bashful about the whole thing. No, he is not considering _that_ option out of all the others, but it is never too bad to know all of his choices.

“Hmm,” Doyoung looks at Youngho in amusement. “Hyung, love happens differently to everyone. I cannot give you any particulars — some sort of a _Dos and Don’ts_ list — on how to or how not to fall in love with someone. If love must happen to the three of you, then it will. It won’t, if it mustn’t. Let it be, and let it happen.” He says, and Youngho hums in response.

“But you don’t have to think about all this love business if you’re not comfortable with it. I don’t want to put any thoughts in your head. Just get this through your head — Be civil to your partners, be a good person to them, and form a friendship if nothing else. You are _not_ the only one who is stuck in this arrangement. Don’t hate them, don’t push them away. They’re probably also suffering. And even if they aren’t, that does not give you any right to not be nice to them.” Doyoung raises his eyebrow as if asking, _‘understood?’,_ and Youngho closes his eyes and nods in answer.

“Are we clear here?” Doyoung asks, just to make sure.

“As crystal,” Youngho answers.

“Good.” Doyoung finally smiles, all teeth and gums, and it prompts a smile from Youngho as well. “Love you hyung, and I hope to see and hear from you soon.”

“Love you too, Dons,” Youngho waves at the screen. “Visit me sometime soon.” He says as Doyoung rolls his eyes, smiling, before he hangs up.

Youngho sighs and closes his eyes after taking a look at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It is close to being ten p.m. at night, and he is finally feeling sleepy so he decides that he might as well get some shut-eye. He turns around to lie on his back, adjusts himself until he feels comfortable, and then pulls out a big, peach-shaped plushie from the top of the headboard, hugging it to sleep.

The next time he wakes up, it is sometime before five a.m., just as dawn is cracking. Youngho purrs softly, for having gotten a good amount of sleep and because his body feels well-rested — almost like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders.

He sits up, stretches his arms and legs, cringing when he hears them pop in different places, and then goes to freshen himself up. After he is done with that, he heads to the balcony in his room to see the sunrise. He stands, leaning on the railing and witnesses the sun come out of hiding, colouring the sky with all shades of blue, and purple, and pink.

The clouds clear like the curtain being lifted off of a dais, and the sun, a glowing orb of pink and orange takes centre-stage. The early morning breeze caresses Youngho’s face like a lover would — gentle, and soft; and Youngho closes his eyes, smiling to himself.

It is silly (and every time that Youngho will think about this later he will blame it to his sleep-addled brain and the lack of his morning coffee to knock some sense into him), but Youngho’s mind conjures an image of Taeyong and Yuta, both palming his cheeks and smiling up at him. The image fades away faster than it appeared and leaves Youngho feeling confused, and lost.

_What was that? _He asks himself, sighing deeply when he realises that he missed the rest of the sunrise because of one errant thought. He shakes his head as if doing so will stop any more of such thoughts from appearing. He does not get any other out-of-place ideas again, so it certainly seems as though it did, even if it is just for the time being.

Taking a deep breath, he walks back inside his room to continue the rest of his morning following his set routine. Sometime later, on heading to the breakfast table; a surprise greets him in the form of Junmyeon and his husband.

Youngho’s eyes widen in elation, and a smile breaks out on his face as he walks into the direction of the people. Youngho’s parents are also seated at the same table, and they have big smiles on their faces as they chat with the couple that is as close as family to them.

“Good Morning Junmyeon hyung, Minseok hyung,” Youngho greets the two of them, and then his parents. “Mom, Dad.”

He gets a chorus of greetings in return, and he smiles before he goes in to hug both Junmyeon and then Minseok, one by one. Junmyeon pats his back warmly and pulls away sooner than Youngho would have liked, but tells himself not to pay any mind to it before he goes in to embrace Minseok.

Minseok is… _very_ attractive, if Youngho may say so. Yet, Youngho does not know for sure how he feels about the older man, his feelings torn between fondness and indifference. On one hand, he feels so protective of the man he would probably lay his life down for him, but on the other hand, Youngho also feels like he somehow must compete with him for Junmyeon's attention.

_Which_ is ridiculous, because Minseok is Junmyeon’s _husband_, his _mate_, and Youngho has no need or desire to compete against that? But hey, tell that to Youngho’s stupid hive-brain that just wants to fight at the first sight of competition, or the most minor of inconveniences or opportunity.

Minseok is also a little short – _well compared to Youngho’s towering height nearly everyone is short _– but it is the kind of short that makes Youngho want to keep him safe, to think about how well the other fits in his arms, and also about how Minseok and Junmyeon have the same, perfect heights to hug each other and be able to perch their chins on each other’s shoulders without bending down, or having to tiptoe. Or to kiss—

_Youngho, stop thinking like a desperate, hormonal teenager._

While thinking so, he ends up hugging Minseok longer than he hugs Junmyeon. And Youngho is grateful that nobody points that little fact out. The fact that he has a soft spot for both his mentor and his mentor's mate-and-husband is not something that needs to be openly discussed.

“We were just waiting for you to arrive,” Youngho’s mother says, patting his shoulder when he takes the seat next to hers. “Junmyeon has things to tell you, that you’d like to know.”

“Okay…” Youngho drags the syllable out, and it ends up sounding like a question. “Like what?” He then asks.

“_Hmm_, let’s see,” His father votes from beside him.

“Well then, Jun-ah?” Youngho’s mother calls out to Junmyeon, who smiles and then nods in response.

“Ah, Eun-Jung ahjumma, you know that there was a meeting held two days ago at the LSM headquarters yet again, right?” Junmyeon asks, but his tone suggests to Youngho that it is a rhetorical question, so he chooses not to grace that with an answer.

Junmyeon continues then, “CCO Park, and CSO Oh were called to the meeting, along with the CCO’s and CSO’s of LSM and JYN and Miss Kang to discuss the course of action regarding this arrangement and a lot of things were discussed and agreed upon. Once Chanyeol and Sehun came back, we sat down and talked about all of the things that were discussed, and the papers of that agreement should be in my office by tomorrow morning if I go by their words.”

Junmyeon pauses and looks at Youngho and his parents to make sure they are with him on the topic, and when he sees them nodding, he starts once again. "On which note, the agreement is to be signed by the CCO's and the CSO's. Since what I'm telling you right now is classified information, _if_ in any case, anything goes awry, the signatory takes the brunt of _that_ particular fall. Which just means that the men who signed the papers will be let go. And we don’t want that.”

“The lesser people that know about this arrangement and the smallest details about it, the better it is for _all of us_. Because this wedding – this _union_ – is not just for the three of you, Youngho,” Junmyeon pauses to pin Youngho with a gentle look, almost apologetic; Youngho does not like it one bit. “This union bears the fate and future of all of us connected to the companies in any sort of way. Which is why a lot of vigilance is necessary while dealing with this.”

“Now, to come to what has been discussed and agreed upon…” Junmyeon pauses as the butler serves him, continuing after the man has moved on to serve Minseok, “… Just so you know, as much as this is being done for the company as well as your reputations, _this_ is being done _mostly_ for Lee Taeyong.” He says calmly and then takes a morsel in his mouth.

“What do you mean this is all being done _mostly_ for the Lee’s son?” Youngho cannot help himself but ask the question.

“Youngho, Lee Taeyong is not just a simple, small-scale model.” Junmyeon sighs, looking at Youngho in a manner that makes Youngho feel like he is daft.

"Well, Chairman Lee surely made it sound that way," Youngho mumbles, looking down at his plate in mild embarrassment.

“What have we discussed about the mumbling, my love?” Youngho’s mother asks, voice soft yet tone strict. Youngho’s reflexes make him sit up straight instantly.

“Not to do it. I’m sorry, mom.” He apologizes and his mother smiles, patting the top of his hand gently.

“Carry on, Jun-ah.” Youngho father urges with a smile making Junmyeon smile back at him before he begins explaining.

“Right,” Junmyeon nods. “Lee Taeyong is a very well-known supermodel, who has walked and posed for some of the biggest brands and labels all over the world. Which just means that he is always under media coverage. You cannot simply announce that he is marrying two people out of the blue. He is very active on social media and has a very big fan-base, so you know that there will be backlash if it comes to light that he is taking part in a political marriage. Backlash that includes the involved companies losing shares, share prices dropping, among other things.”

Junmyeon licks his lips and then takes a sip of water.

“So what the PR department for this arrangement has decided, is that Youngho, Lee Taeyong, and Nakamoto Yuta go through a courting session for a given period. Just until the merge is announced." Junmyeon nods while making a pause gesture with his hand while Youngho goes to speak.

“For the well-being of the companies, and for the reputations of the three of you, it has been decided that the wedding will not take place for the next couple of months,” Junmyeon says, and Youngho takes in a relieved breath.

"During those months the three of you will go on elaborate, set-up dates to start getting seen with each other and to get the rumours started. And once the rumour mill is up and running, one of you will propose, and the three of you’ll get married. And then we will announce the merge.” Junmyeon informs, and Youngho’s heart sinks.

It sounds so nice. Courting someone, going out and spending time with them. Developing feelings for them, getting attached to them. Thinking about wanting to spend the rest of your life with a person. Proposing marriage to them. Not knowing if they will say yes or not, and being overjoyed when they do say yes.

Everything will be a lie for them.

Youngho feels heartbroken. Not just for himself, but for the other two as well. They probably do not have a say in this, too. They will probably not get the relationship they’ve dreamed of, with this. They will not get the proposal they must have thought about, with this. They will most likely not have the marriage or married life that they would have wanted.

Youngho finishes his breakfast only for the sake of finishing it, his appetite long gone.

Once Junmyeon and Minseok have left, and Youngho is just about to leave for work, his parents ask him to wait in the study, reasoning that they have something urgent to discuss with him. So Youngho obeys, going to the study and waiting for his parents, while he peruses the books on the shelves.

There are all sorts of books. Business, Law, Language, Literature, Science; You name it, they have it. Youngho randomly picks up a book and opens it, bringing it close to his face to take a whiff of the smell of old books that he loves.

When he hears the door open, he quickly closes the book shut and keeps it back to where he found it. His mother and father eye him sceptically and beckon him to take a seat, while they seat themselves as well. Youngho’s mother on the huge wooden armchair, and his father on the armrest of that same chair.

“Youngho, son,” His mother begins, but then she pauses, looking a little unsure. As if she does not know how to broach the subject. “I feel— We feel—” She pauses again, only to sigh and look at her husband for some assistance.

“Son,” The older Seo begins, voice unusually tighter, “From what we’ve seen from your behaviour lately, your mother and I have established that you may be a great businessman, but you are still a lot… _immature_ than your contemporaries. It is not a bad thing until it is inside our home, but you seem to forget your surroundings even outside.” He sighs.

Once his father’s words register into his mind, Youngho’s gut coils in eerie anticipation.

“Which is why we have decided that until you improve yourself and display remarkable self-control, as well as go through with this marriage and make it successful, we will not be handing over SBH to you…” The older Seo declares; Youngho sees his mother nod, and his head begins to spin. “…our sole heir as you may be.”

Youngho finds himself too shocked to respond with anything else but a nod, so he softly excuses himself and leaves the room. On his way back to his bedroom, Youngho cannot help but play the conversation he just had with his parents again and again in his head. He almost finds it hard to believe, but then again, he realizes that his behaviour has indeed been nothing exemplary.

It makes him feel helpless, how first his choice of partner was taken from him, and now the company that he has worked so hard to take over is on the verge of being taken away, as well. It frustrates him to think that at the end of the day, maybe it all does come down to this— _this marriage_.

He pauses mid-step.

_Is that how it is, Youngho?_ He asks himself.

_No, it isn’t. _He tells himself. _I need to stop being juvenile regardless of whether or not this marriage happens. _He realises that he cannot take after his parents if he cannot remain undisturbed in social situations. He cannot be worthy if he keeps blaming others for his shortcomings.

Youngho sighs yet again, overcome by the turn of events.

He wonders how many more challenges are in store for him.

_I wonder if I’m ready for them all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my moons, i love u. wishing u health, happiness, & safety. <3
> 
> -min 🌸💕


	5. the world seemed to tell me (that i have a plan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter 4 - aftermath of the second meeting: taeyong and yuta edition.
> 
> chapter title is from ready now by dodie. i love dodie. :')

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. merry christmas. it's not the 25th anymore, i know. but christmas is a feeling. and to me, it feels like christmas right now. <3  
2\. dear goD this story is such a slow build. i wANT them to meet asap BUT THEY NO WANNA DO IT. UGH. pls have some patience.  
3\. there's a playlist to this fic. it's multi-lingual (i sneaked some hindi songs in there too coz ugh they get me in my feels so bad). and sad(???) u can find it [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/31za7pv2hqwxqhup6jskucfici7i/playlist/1BpU9Mn9CFwfae2hRDxPi1?si=bNQtcPgtS0-_axP50QYNJw) if u want uwu. :*  
4\. i've been writing, scraping parts, scraping the whole, and then rewriting this chappy for the past two m o n t h s. yes, u're right, it took me two months to write this. i'm idiot bye. ;-;  
5\. u may have noticed that i changed the chapter names from ordinal numbers in french, to song lyrics, bc i like it like that uwu <3  
6\. finally, enjoy! i hope u like this! <333
> 
> p.s. this is as usual, awfully unbeta'ed, and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. pls go easy on me, i have barely two functioning brain cells and english is my third language. :')
> 
> cw // pregnancy, food  
tw // mentions of vomiting

"Why are we here, again?" Taeyong asks Seulgi in confusion, looking around the café as he tries to understand why she would bring him here of all places.

"You've been cooped up in your apartment ever since the company meeting," She says while scouring the menu for something of her preference, "I had to get you out before you became a part of the furniture."

"It's just been two days," Taeyong grumbles.

"Three, but okay." She hands the menu to Taeyong then, having seemingly decided what she wants to eat. Taeyong takes the menu and begins looking through the lists, trying to figure out for himself – what he wants to eat. After looking for what feels like an hour, Taeyong decides to have what he usually prefers, anyway.

"I'll just take a cappuccino with a side of brownies," He tells her and Seulgi makes a face.

"Why do I let you look at the menu when you're going to order the same damn thing every time?" She asks no one in particular. Taeyong snorts.

"Because…" He drags out in a cute voice, "…what if I changed my mind and actually ordered something else for once in my life?" He looks at his companion and smiles impishly, batting his eyelashes.

"Right…" Seulgi drawls unimpressed, "…you know what? Just finish your food, I have shit to talk to you about."

"Okay okay…" Taeyong sighs and that is that for the time being. They call the waiter who notes down their order and rushes to the counter, and then comes back sometime later with what they want to eat in tow — hot and steaming. Taeyong's mouth waters and he digs in immediately, and Seulgi smiles at him before doing the same.

They eat in what is more or less a comfortable silence, exchanging little quips here and there. Taeyong talks about how he will never get over how good the brownies are at this place, Seulgi retorts saying, of course, he won't because _that is all you eat here, you don't even know what anything else here tastes like_. After both of them finish their food, Seulgi suggests going to the Banpo Hangang Park to talk about whatever the things are that she is going to tell him about.

One long-but-not-boring car ride later, they find themselves sitting on what they can only hope is a clean patch of grass. Seulgi sits with her legs crisscrossed, and Taeyong sits with his knees to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs.

For some moments no one says anything. Both Taeyong and Seulgi look at the sunny view in front of them. The bridge that they just rode upon, the bridge that seems to stretch on forever. Taeyong takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly to calm his nerves. Unbeknownst to him, Seulgi does the same.

"I had a meeting with the CCO's and CSO's of all the three companies, the day after the big meeting…" She trails off, her soft voice being carried away by the wind. Taeyong thinks of how nice she is to give him time to process her words, he thinks of how much he loves her.

"And then?" Taeyong asks, resting his chin on his knees.

"We decided how to go about this arrangement, so that, to the media at least it looks like a love marriage." She murmurs, trying to be discreet. A cool gust of breeze blows by, and some of her hair falls on her face. Taeyong reaches out and tucks the newly-dyed ginger tresses behind her ear, and Seulgi smiles at him in thanks.

"So tell me…" Taeyong sighs, "What did you guys decide?"

Seulgi gulps before she speaks.

"We reached the unanimous decision that it would be best if the three of you went through a period of courting." She breathes out, her eyes looking at the river and the light that reflects from the waves.

"Your birthday is in two weeks, more or less. So we were thinking that we can throw a small get together and send invitations to the Seos' and the Nakamotos'. That is where we can stage your first meeting, and from there onwards we will send you on some 'dates'," She pauses to make finger-quotes, rolling her eyes simultaneously, "that will, of course, be premediated, until the paparazzi spots you together and the news of the three of you dating is all over the media outlets." She stops and takes a breath. Taeyong sighs and runs his hand through his hair, then pinches the bridge of his nose.

"And then what happens?" He asks, looking back at the river and the sky that is slowly giving way to evening.

"You guys keep on going on these dates, and show some PDA here and there. This goes on for a couple of months, until one of you proposes, or two of you do, and then you guys get married in a small ceremony to make it look like a genuine, intimate affair. You guys can decide who is going to do the proposing, that is probably all the liberty that I can give you." She pauses, and inhales deeply again.

Taeyong can only imagine how much this is hurting her, when he suffers every day, himself. To tell the person you love about how their wedding is being planned with someone else is surely not a pain many can understand. Neither is having your wedding with someone else planned by the one you love.

Taeyong supposes both he and Seulgi are unique, similar, and unfortunate enough in that manner.

She still hasn't spoken yet, and Taeyong looks back into her eyes as they look into his. Her eyes seem to be glittering, shining with unshed tears, and Taeyong's heart lurches. He can never stand to see his loved ones cry, especially not _the_ one that he loves.

"Don't cry, noona." He tells her with a shaky voice as it refuses to cooperate the moment he opens his mouth. "I can't see you cry… I can't bear to see you cry."

"Mm," Seulgi hums, her voice shaky.

The two of them go silent, yet again. The only sounds that surround them are the river's, of the traffic on the bridge, the cool breeze as it nears evening, and of their own heavy, slowed breathing. Not breaking down into tears is hard, they find.

You are sitting with someone you could give the world for, someone whom you have only ever loved and loved and loved, but from whom you couldn't be farther apart, and yet you still adore them. Knowing that they feel the same for you, knowing that all they want is you, but the circumstances will never allow that. How do you stop _that_ kind of hurt from turning your gut inside out?

Taeyong and Seulgi both keep breathing slowly, keep trying to steady themselves. Taeyong reaches out in the grass, and takes Seulgi's hand in his own, his thumb softly stroking the faux-ginger's knuckles. Seulgi gently squeezes his hand, and he loves her. Knows that she loves him. Loves and misses the familiarity that the touch implies. Loves and misses how they do not have to say things out loud to have to know what they want to convey to each other.

Knows that when he squeezes her hand, she hears the _'I love you'_ he did not say.

When she interlaces their fingers, he feels more than hears the _'As I love you' _like she whispered it into his hair.

"Once your wedding is done with, the venture will be launched," Seulgi murmurs once she feels calm enough to talk without crying for the love she has to give up. "They will say that it's because of you guys marrying each other that they thought of merging, so that the idea about this thing being a political marriage does not come up."

Taeyong breathes in, running his hand through his hair yet again.

"Why…" He muses, "Why so much… Why— why all of this— This _charade_? What's the worst that's gonna happen if the truth comes out?" He hides his face in the space between his chest and his knees.

"It's for the best…" Seulgi replies, looking at the now setting sun, a glowing orb of pink and orange, and the magenta sky that it is leaving behind in its wake, "…for all three of you."

"_How?_" Taeyong whispers, "Tell me why, noona. Tell me _why_ is it for the best that we have to go through this farce? This _courting, acting like we're falling in love, proposing to each other?_ None of us had a choice in this, none of us know what we're getting into. None of us probably want to, either. So I don't fucking understand why we must act like we do!" He whisper-shouts, and Seulgi sighs long-sufferingly.

"Will you trust me when I say that I don't care about the rest of them…" Seulgi implores, "I'm only doing this because I want what is the best for you?"

"I trust you without you having to ask me, too." Taeyong heaves a sigh, "Just— Just tell me why, noona."

Seulgi keeps mum for some long moments.

"Do you— do you know how they refer to you in articles, Taeyong? Have you ever read an article that was written about you?" She asks even though she knows what his answer will be.

Taeyong squints at the twilight sky in front of him, and just to humour Seulgi he graces her question with an answer.

"You know I don't," He breathes out, "You know I never check any magazines or tabloids that write things about me. You know I do that because worrying about strangers' opinion of me is not the kind of stress or anxiety that I need in my life."

At his reply, Seulgi looks torn between saying something or remaining quiet. She opens her mouth and then closes it, biting her bottom lip and blowing out air through her half-closed mouth. The air makes a sharp whistling sound as it flows out.

"I didn't want to tell you this," She gulps, "but they always, _always_ refer to you as the Omegan Beauty, Yongie. No matter how hard you work, no matter how good are you than everyone else at what you do, _no matter what, _Yongie; This society will only ever see you for the omega you were born as." She sighs sadly.

Taeyong clenches his fist, and takes a deep breath. "And?" He asks.

"Almost every headline and sentence starts with _'Omega Supermodel Lee Taeyong' this, 'Omega Supermodel Lee Taeyong' that_. They don't see you as a person, Yongie. You're a commodity yourself, when you're not helping advertise them for these brands. It all comes down, in the end, to your _omegan charms_, your _omegan beauty and grace_, and your _fortunate omegan origin_; for these people. It is very rare that someone actually talks about your hard work and how much you've struggled to make it." Seulgi tells him, her voice controlled to be devoid of emotion.

Taeyong scoffs out a bark of laughter. He shakes his head; because _this_ is what he wanted to avoid all this time. He took all the suppressants his parents put him on, didn't complain once about not having heats when he knows how bad it must be for his body, because all he wanted all this time was to not be seen just for what he was born as. An omega.

_I guess things never turn out as we want for them to, huh, _he thinks bitterly.

"You know what will happen if the news gets out that this is a political marriage?" Seulgi whispers, sounding hopeless to even herself. "It will only solidify your 'omegan' status, Yongie. People will only ever see you as a stereotypical omega who has no agency of their own. Do you really want for that to happen, after all the blood, sweat, and tears that you've poured into climbing up to this position you are at, today?" She looks at him with a fierce gaze, fired up suddenly. Taeyong furrows his eyebrows in confusion, wondering what has caused this change in a moment.

"You're one of the biggest models in the whole industry, not just here, in South Korea, but on a global scale. You're UNICEF's ambassador for Equal Rights. You're well known for fighting for your rights, for others', and for not taking anyone's shit. People look up to you so much, Yongie. It's not just omegas, and you know that. Do you want all of that to go down the gutter?" She raises an eyebrow at him, and Taeyong shakes his head in negation, dazedly.

"It's only for strengthening your reputation that I'm asking this of you." Seulgi looks at him, and there is a glint of confidence in her eyes, intense as it is. "Instead of what is the truth, imagine if the media learns this: You are marrying not one, but _two_ people, _of your own choice, because you want to_, and _that_ in turn is causing the merge of these three companies. Do you understand how _powerful_ that makes you sound?" She asks, and Taeyong sighs, half-accepting defeat.

"You're saying it as if people are stupid enough to believe everything just like that," He murmurs and then scoffs again. "People will always question me and my motives, noona. Why should I care?"

"You shouldn't have to care if people weren't such shallow and one-dimensional hypocrites as they are!" Seulgi sighs in frustration. "They are nice to your face, of course, they are. 'Cause they have to act like it! But you know that the moment you walk away, you're nothing to them but a brainless pup vessel for Alphas, Betas, and Omegas alike. It could take someone a very long time to gain respect and reverence, but it takes one moment of imprudence to lose it all."

She looks at him then, eyes pleading yet again.

"Don't let this be your moment of foolishness, Taeyong." With how desperate she sounds while saying it, Seulgi might even be begging. "Don't."

"So, what…" Taeyong begins to say, taking his time to process all of what she has just said, and he understands. Why wouldn't he, when he has toiled so much to be where he is at, today? "So, what you're saying is that… That I go through with this farce of courting, falling in love and all bullshit with them just so… Just so I…" He trails off, not knowing how to phrase what he wants to say without it sounding… _appalling_.

"Yes," Seulgi does not hesitate, and pulls no punches. "I want you to go through with this to further your reputation. If this shit is going down, then it may as well be a good thing."

Taeyong stares at her, breathing deep.

"Think about the brighter side," Seulgi suggests, rubbing her hands together, comically similar to the way that houseflies do when they find food. "Maybe the other two are not complete dickwads. Well, they didn't look like it, at least. And I'm pretty sure that Nakamoto Yuta does not want this, or he wouldn't have asked what he did that day. So, that leaves you with one person, Seo Youngho. _And_, with how much _he_ kept zoning out that day, he is probably trying to zone this whole thing out, too."

She claps suddenly, and Taeyong's ear rings because of the sound.

"So there you have it. Spend some time with other guys who want the same things as you do, at least when it comes to this arrangement. Be nice to them, benefit your rep while you're at it, marry them, and then see how it goes from there." She shrugs.

"See how it goes from there?" Taeyong asks, half-confused, half-disbelieving. _What is she talking about?_

Seulgi looks at him in that way that makes him feel stupid.

"What do you think it means?" She sounds like she is in physical pain for having to say this. "You marry them, see how things work out between you guys or if they don't, figure out if guys want to stay together or not – though I doubt you'll have the choice to annul this, at least not until some time has passed. Some time as in a year or two, I guess. If you guys catch feelings for each other, then you do. If you don't, then you don't." She shrugs again.

"So…" Taeyong exhales slowly. Seulgi completes his sentence, "You should give this a chance."

Taeyong sighs.

This is it, after all.

Marrying two men, two _strangers_, just so he can look like a person with agency of his own. Just so he does not look weak to the _media_, even though he _is_ weak in the face of these particular circumstances. Courting someone just for show, pretending to fall in love with his potential spouses, who are both men (and Taeyong has never, as much as even _looked_ romantically at another man before this), even though the one he loves is right by his side and yet so out of his reach.

_How is this a good thing?_

//

"Yuta hyung, you mouldy piece of bread!" Jungwoo twitters happily as Yuta walks towards him and Taeil, who are already seated on a picnic blanket, with an assortment of snacks lying in front of them. Yuta sticks his tongue out at the youngest and moves to sit with them, hugging Taeil sideways once he does.

"Sit with me," Jungwoo pouts, looking at Yuta through his perpetual puppy-eyed gaze. "I'm the one who misses you. You see hyungie every day, anyway." He mumbles in an adorably whiny voice, and honestly, who _is_ Yuta to deny what Jungwoo wants?

He chuckles and shifts to sit next to Jungwoo, who immediately hugs him and pecks him on the lips. Yuta shakes his head fondly and laughs before ruffling the younger's hair.

"I missed you too, puppy," he says and scrunches his nose, feeling full with affection for the youngest of all three of them, which makes Jungwoo scoff and roll his eyes obnoxiously.

"Right," He drawls, "You missed me so much that you're coming to see me after almost one whole month, and even that because I told you to stop being a little bitch on the phone. _Riiight_." He narrows his eyes at Yuta and smacks him on the arm so hard that the sound makes Yuta's ear ring.

"Ow! Snoopy what the f-" Yuta hisses and rubs his arm and Jungwoo blows a raspberry in response, and Taeil shakes his head at the two's antics.

"Alright, alright, let's try to tone down on the profanity a bit." Taeil chuckles in that endearing manner of his, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. "There are kids here."

Yuta looks around them and sees some children running around, laughing, and squealing, having the time of their lives and a smile takes over his face. "Tell that to your boyfriend, hyung. He's the one who likes to call me a little bitch." He teases Jungwoo through Taeil, and Jungwoo sticks his tongue out in Yuta's direction yet again.

"…So tell me how life's treating you, hyungie." Jungwoo asks, smiling cutely. Yuta looks at the man in front of him, and at his hands, then back and forth.

Jungwoo's cuteness is a complete one-eighty from what he is doing right now, making an atrocity in the name of a sandwich, layering ranch dressing on peanut butter, cucumber and cheese slices, and then mustard. _(Dear God, is that ketchup in there?)_ Yuta scrunches up his nose for just the look of that atrocious sandwich makes him want to aggressively throw up everywhere, and both Taeil and Jungwoo laugh when they see his face.

"Maybe I shouldn't talk until that disaster is finished being eaten," Yuta breathes out, cringing and gagging when he sees Jungwoo happily taking a bite of his multi-flavoured sandwich. Taeil shakes his head fondly, for both his boyfriend, and his best friend.

"Oh my God, why am I stuck here with you kids?" Taeil's musing is interrupted by Jungwoo's obnoxious moan.

"This tastes _even better _than I imagined, _ugh_…" Jungwoo licks his fingertips clean and Yuta looks away from the vomit-inducing sight.

Taeil hands some wet wipes to Jungwoo for him to clean his hands, and once he has finished wiping his palms and fingers clean of the grease, Taeil gives him some dry paper towels. Jungwoo takes them and thanks his boyfriend softly, and then proceeds to diligently dry his hands.

"Okay, hyungie, _really_ now." Jungwoo straightens up his back, and pauses to rotate his neck clockwise and then anti-clockwise, then moving to rub the lower part of his back softly. "How have things been with you since we last saw each other?"

Yuta sighs.

"Uh…" He trails off, confused, _unsure_ of where he should begin narrating from.

Should he tell them about the whole arrangement with the companies, or should he just refrain from including the minute details and just tell them that he is being made a part of a political, arranged marriage, along with two other people? No, he remembers his sister's words from last night, _the lesser people there are that know about the whole thing, the better it will be for everyone involved. **Discretion**, Yuta._

But, he has already given Taeil a hint that something is going on, and that he is not at liberty to discuss whatever it is. What should he do about that? How does he tell his friends about what is going on, while being discreet about it? How does he tell Jungwoo and Taeil that he is being made part of an arranged marriage, with not just one person, but _two_ – and do all this without actually telling the two of them that it is an arranged marriage?

Yuta briefly considers not telling them anything at all, to make up something about life being hard, about himself being tired and just exhausted, but he decides not to. He reckons that it would be terribly hurtful if his best friends were to find out about his marriage from tabloids, of all things. His _best friends_, who have been there for him, _with_ him, through thick and thin, through all of the good, the bad, and the ugliest of the ugly.

"Taeilie-hyung, remember how I told you that there's something that's hard for me to tell you, and that I wasn't sure if I was allowed to even mention it or not?" Yuta asks, referring to the conversation he and Taeil had in his car barely two or three days ago, intending to continue the conversation from there. He will take it naturally, he has decided. _Just wing it._

_I teach literature, building a false narrative should be easy._

"Yes, I do," Taeil says, while he wraps his arm around Jungwoo's shoulder and pulls his the youngest closer to himself. "Are you finally comfortable, and allowed to talk about that?" He asks, as considerate as ever, and Yuta feels sorry for having to lie to them about this. But he promises himself that he will come clean to them about this once everything has calmed down. Somewhere deep down, he has a feeling that he will have to.

"I still can't tell you everything about this, but…" Yuta pauses, taking some deep breaths to gather himself as well as his thoughts.

"But…?" Jungwoo asks, doe eyes staring into Yuta's insides, and Yuta feels oddly at ease, instead of nervous. _It will be okay_, these two are his best friends, his family, a part of his home. _If there's anyone who will understand, it's them._

"I may or may not be seeing someone." He breathes out, and closes his eyes. _I'm sorry for lying._

There is silence. Yuta cannot tell what he expected, but this long pin-drop silence definitely was _not_ it. He takes another deep breath and opens his eyes, and finds Taeil and Jungwoo looking at him and blinking. Just, blinking. They look confused, and at one point Jungwoo just accusatorily narrows his eyes in Yuta's general direction.

After a pregnant pause, it is Jungwoo who breaks the silence by laughing.

"Almost got me, hyung!" He giggles softly, rubbing circles on his bump slowly. "But you've got to be a whole lot better at acting if you wanna fool me." Taeil steals a wary glance at his boyfriend, perhaps because he thinks that Yuta is really not trying to fool them, after all. Yuta cringes internally, _but I am trying to fool you. I **am** trying to make you think that I'm doing this out of love. I'm so sorry._

"I don't think he's acting, baby," Taeil says, maintaining steady eye-contact with Yuta. "Are you?"

Yuta _almost_ feels bad for lying, again. "I'm not."

_Almost_. He mentally chastises himself, and tells himself that he must get used to this sooner rather than later because he is going to have to lie a lot in the times that are to come.

Jungwoo immediately straightens back up. "I'm sorry for making fun of you, hyungie. I shouldn't have done that." He apologizes sincerely, and guilt settles heavy in Yuta's chest. _I'm sorry for lying, I shouldn't do this. _

_But this is for the best._

"It's okay Snoopy, you don't have to apologize." Yuta placates the youngest of the three of them. "I know how hard to believe that is, because honestly," He adds an incredulous laugh to make it sound more plausible. "I still can't believe it myself."

"Who is it?" Jungwoo asks the same time that Taeil asks, "How did it happen?"

Yuta swallows. A flurry of thoughts races inside his head, consisting of all the possible things that could be said at this moment, but he ignores all of those possibilities in favour of saying something that would help build up this lie effectively, would help him deceive his friends into believing his lies. He sighs.

"Right, to uh – to answer Snoopy's question, it's actually not uh… It's actually _not one person_." Yuta scratches the back of his ear awkwardly, looking away from his friends, and then, towards the Han River. "_It's two _of them."

He lets out the breath he was holding, and watches as Jungwoo and Taeil look like they've seen a ghost.

"Pardon?" The couple asks, bewildered. It still sometimes bugs Yuta, the twin-like empathy shared between these two for it can be very creepy at times, but he just chalks it up to them knowing each other so well. Soulmates don't really exist, that is just the stuff of fairy-tales. Things made up to paint a better picture of the world for children. Only for them to face disappointment once they grow up.

_That is life_, Yuta supposes. _Disappointing, but not surprising_.

He is shaken out of his thoughts by Taeil. "Yuta, what do you mean two people?" He asks with a worried frown.

"Two people as in, are you two-timing? Are you seeing two people at the same time with their knowledge, or are you seeing two people who are also seeing each-other – basically in a poly-relationship?" Jungwoo rapid-fires his questions and leaves Yuta scrambling to get a grip on himself.

"Okay, Snoopy, calm down." Yuta laughs awkwardly, trying to calm his nerves. Lying about this is a lot more difficult than he initially thought. "When I said I'm seeing two people, I meant it in the way that all three of us are seeing each other. So, yes. If things work out… Then, as you put it, we might be heading towards a polyamorous relationship." He sighs, yet again.

"Oh, okay." Taeil sighs, and he and Jungwoo nod in contemplation.

"Are you happy with it?" The eldest asks, and Yuta looks at him, warily, yet hoping that he comes off as anything but.

_Am I? _He asks himself.

"I…" Yuta exhales heavily, feeling the weight of the lie on his shoulders.

_Is he happy with this arrangement? _No.

_But, can he do anything to change it?_ No.

_So is he going to suck it up and play the hand that he has been dealt?_ Yes.

"I don't know how to feel, hyung," Yuta answers truthfully, and smiles. It's a melancholy little thing – that smile of his. Taeil and Jungwoo look at him, and his sad, small smile; and they do not know how they should feel about this, either.

"Is there a reason—" Jungwoo cuts himself off abruptly. Yuta thinks, perhaps to rephrase his question. He is right. "Are they not good to you, hyung?" Jungwoo asks, sounding cautious. What is he cautious of, Yuta wonders? _It's not like I have a lot left in me to be hurt, anymore_, He muses.

"It's nothing like that Snoopy." Yuta feigns laughter. "We've just been on one date, isn't it too soon to be thinking about that right off the bat?" _Please don't catch me in this lie._

Jungwoo and Taeil both share a disbelieving look.

"Just…" Jungwoo begins, "Whatever happens, know that we're always, _always_ here for you." He says, and beckons that Yuta should come into his arms and hug him. Yuta obliges and crawls to him, and Jungwoo wraps his arms around him, all warmth and affection.

Taeil wraps his arms around the two of them, softly whispering something that sounds too much like a "group hug!" but Yuta pays it no mind as he basks in the attention and affection that is being showered on him. And God, it feels nice. To be loved, and to be appreciated.

Dear God, he wants a family so much.

"I want this to work, so bad." He whispers into the long-lasting embrace of his best-friends, embarrassed for the life of him.

"It's only natural, Yuta," Taeil whispers, slowly rubbing Yuta's back once they let each-other out of each other's arms. "It's been a year. You deserve a second chance at love. _You_, more than anyone else."

"It's just that…" Yuta pauses, almost choking on his words, and the feelings that he has kept hidden for so long, even from himself. "Being lonely is so terrible, and awful, and I hate it. I hate that I'm still so affected by Sicheng leaving that I can't open my heart to anyone else. I hate being lonely, hyung."

Taeil and Jungwoo look pained, yet they still release relaxing pheromones to calm all three of them down. Yuta is so, so grateful to have them as his friends. He nods at them in thanks, and both of the other two nod back at him, smiling encouragingly.

"I want to love, and to be loved back. I want to be cherished, and to cherish someone in return. I want to fill my life with love and happiness and to make a family, a family that is just my own. I want someone whom I could just give, and give, and give to; and who'd do the same for me. I just want to be happy, and to be able to add to someone's happiness." He sighs, his voice shaky, sounding very close to tears. "Is that... wanting too much?"

"You will get everything that you want, and more." Says Jungwoo, this time. The youngest is already teary-eyed and rubbing his baby-bump slowly. "Take it as a pregnant man's blessing." He giggles softly, sniffling a little, to ease the anxiety of the atmosphere. Yuta and Taeil smile at his genuine-ness.

_Will I?_ Somewhere, Yuta's pessimistic brain asks him. He shakes away that thought.

"Thank you, Snoopy." He says, smiling as he hands Jungwoo some tissues for the younger to wipe his eyes with. "I hope your blessings will come true, then."

Jungwoo smiles in return, a gentle, beautiful thing.

"You still didn't tell us who they are, though," Taeil says, his expression endearingly confused.

"Honestly, I still can't," Yuta replies, sheepishly. "It's a matter of their privacy and I can't compromise it without discussing it with them." He scratches his head, embarrassedly.

"Is it some celebrity?" "Is it some chaebol heir?"

His friends ask in unison, once again. Yuta facepalms, and chuckles. He is slightly surprised that these two would guess it so easily, and so on point, but hey, the more they know.

"Yes, and yes." He answers both of them, making sure to look at both the males sitting in front of him, and he watches in amusement as their expression change completely, from sadness to amazement. Before they can ask anything further, Yuta raises his hand in the air to stop them.

"Sorry, but for now, this is all I can tell you. The rest of it, you'll have to wait to find out, depending on how it goes for us." Yuta says, smiling as if he is unsure of what his future with the Seo and Lee heirs will be. _Of course, you will find out, because the two of them and I will **have** to get married, whether we like it or not._

"I have a good feeling about this," Jungwoo says, taking a deep whiff of the riverside air, smiling wide with his eyes closed. Taeil grins at his boyfriend's optimism and Yuta smiles along with them, finding it hard not to. But he cannot stop wondering...

_How can this be a good thing?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pregnant pause... hehe i have a terrible sense of humor im sorry i'll see myself out :') (high-five if you noticed it.) XD
> 
> my moons, ilysm. pls take care of yourselves. stay safe, and healthy, drink lots of water, and keep yourselves hydrated you cuties. i hope you liked reading this.
> 
> happy holidays! i hope you have a great time whether it's w/ or w/o your friends and/or family! xx
> 
> -min 🌸💕


	6. (together we sang) i'm ready now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter 5; taeyong's birthday. 95z meet officially. and we see some new(?) characters??? :)
> 
> chapter title from ready now by dodie once again.
> 
> ~
> 
> trigger warning // panic attack (?)
> 
> yuta has a panic attack(??) (i do not know for sure but i've written only that which happens to me very very often) so maybe skip his pov (or this chapter as a whole) if u get uncomfortable and pls take care. ur safety comes first. 💕

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, this is allll **unbeta-ed and un-proofread** so ofc there might (must?) be horrible terrible mistakes, and i'm sooooo sorry for those. <3
> 
> the [padlet](https://padlet.com/nctrinity/nctomegaverse) to this;  
find me on [twt](https://twitter.com/glitteryongs) here;  
the [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/31za7pv2hqwxqhup6jskucfici7i/playlist/1BpU9Mn9CFwfae2hRDxPi1?si=O607m8zmQ36A6tm9eERjqA) for this fic;  


“Come here, let mama fix your hair,” Youngho hears his mother’s gentle voice through the clouds of anxiety, and the restless thoughts that he finds himself surrounded by, at the moment. He blinks rapidly and turns around to face her, taking deep breaths while trying to keep himself calm.

He tries to say something while his mother runs the hairbrush through his hair, but comes up short of words to form sentences with. He exhales slowly and licks his lips. Opens and then closes his mouth. Some time passes, he does not know how long it is. Could be minutes, could be seconds. Hours.

“There, all done.” The older Seo twitters cheerfully, patting her son’s coat lapels and smoothening down invisible creases on the fabric. She looks like she has a lot of things to say. Looks like she is at a loss for words herself, much like her child. She draws in a long, slow breath much as her son did some moments ago, and swallows to clear her throat.

“I…” Youngho begins, a little unsure. Almost as if he does not remember how to frame a proper sentence. “I don’t know what to do, mom.” And it is true. He truly does not know what to do. How is he supposed to just go to the party or whatever and meet with the people he is supposed to _marry_, then pretend like it is love at first sight?

“I’m sorry son.” His mother says and purses her lips in a tell-tale gesture of voluntary helplessness. “But more often than not, we face whatever is thrown at us without having any idea how to. That’s just how life is... That is all there is to it.”

And… She is right. We never know what is going to happen in the next moment in our lives, and yet we deal with the challenges as they come, anyway. Right? Youngho guesses that he should feel something akin to lucky, instead, for at least he _knows_ what it is that he is going to face, and how most of it – if not all – is going to go.

(Or so he would like to think.)

“You know…” Mama Seo inhales deeply, “When your father and I got married— we— I—” She sighs, fumbling for words yet again. Youngho waits in a patient sort of dread, watching carefully while his mother gathers her thoughts. Wonders what she could possibly tell him, something that he probably does not know, something helpful?

Youngho hopes that it is something helpful. He does not want to another consolation. Another voice telling him that _it is **all** going to be okay_. That these things aren’t as bad as they seem to be like. That even if it does not end up working out, it is okay because sometimes, things just don’t.

He knows that. Of course, he does.

What he wants to hear instead, for a change, for _once_, is how the fuck should he should go about dealing with today. It is the first of July, coincidentally – _fortunately_ – whatever-ly, a Friday. So no matter how it goes today, hopefully, he will have the weekend to reflect on it and to probably, _possibly_, intuit.

However, today being the first of July also means that it is Lee Taeyong’s birthday, and hence, the celebratory get-together where he is ‘officially’ going to meet – which means, not get introduced to from a distance of over ten feet, but properly _meet_ – the people that he is going to marry.

And Youngho has absolutely no idea how he is going to act, how he should act, how he _will_ act, when he gets to _see_ them, to _meet_ them, to _talk_. He sighs and shakes his head, already worried about the possible outcome of their meeting today. Already thinking of all the ways that this could go wrong.

Not certain how long he has been zoning out for, Youngho zones back in just in time for his mother to start speaking. “Are you listening?” She asks, looking up at him, and Youngho makes sure to meet her eyes when he nods.

“I am, mom.” He tells her.

His mother nods. “When your father and I got married, it was under some dire circumstances.” She says, wringing her fingers. Youngho senses his mother’s unease and holds her hands in his own, rubbing the top of her knuckles gently with his thumbs.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable sharing, mom.” He tells her with an understanding smile, and she smiles back at him.

“You’re all grown up, aren’t you?” She smiles and pats the side of Youngho’s head. He shakes his head no.

“Well, to come back to the topic, your father and I met during a time that was hard on both of our lives. Not only was it hard for us to trust each other, but it was also hard for us financially. It was for the mutual benefit of both our families that we should be wed.” Youngho’s mother smiles after she exhales, and breathes in deeply.

“And here we are today,” She says, “Your father may not have been my first choice for a mate, but he is definitely the greater love of my life. He gave me all he could offer, and so did I. And then we had you, and you are the biggest happiness in our lives, John-ah. The only person that I will ever love besides your father is you. My only child. So have some faith in your mom, that I only ever want what is good for you.” She promises, voice so full of love and warmth that Youngho’s insides saturate with a gentle sort of reassurance, and her smell of fresh peaches brings Youngho some form of ease.

He heaves a long sigh. “Thanks, mom.” He says, cupping his mother’s face with one hand.

“I’m so sorry that this has to happen like this, my love,” She apologizes, and she truly does sound so remorseful, that Youngho almost feels the need to apologize to her, despite having done nothing wrong. He shakes that thought away, squeezing his mother’s cheek softly.

“I won’t say that it’s okay, mom,” Youngho murmurs and then clears his throat. “But it’s just…” He breathes out a confused puff of air, trying to find a way to word how he feels about what is happening, and what will.

“It just… _is_. Whatever it is, it just is. That’s all there is to it.” He repeats his mother’s words from earlier and looks at her, attempting a smile. From the look she gives him, it probably ends up looking like a grimace instead.

“Doesn’t have to mean that you like it.” She whispers and Youngho pulls her in his arms and closes his eyes. The elder Seo buries her face in her son’s chest and rubs his back, humming a familiar tune from his childhood, as they begin to sway slowly where they stand.

Youngho cannot help it as his body relaxes, and the strong smell of the bleach in the air begins to fade away. Hugging his mother has always, always brought him peace. And it has been years since he had the chance to hug his mother like this. Properly. With her head tucked under his chin and her tiny body engulfed in his arms.

It feels like hours have gone by when they finally stop swaying and Youngho’s mother steps out of her son’s arms. She tip-toes to kiss his forehead and pats his cheeks, smiling. “My beautiful child.” She says, running her hands down his neck, pausing to squeeze his shoulders.

“Now go and get them.” She coos before she steps back, turns around, and walks out of Youngho’s room.

Youngho smiles at her retreating figure, and once the door softly closes shut behind her, he turns around to face the mirror and straightens his bow-tie, nervously running his hands all over his coat-jacket wherever he can reach.

He takes another couple of deep breaths in order to help him steel his nerves (and his resolve), after which he walks out of his room to the living area where his parents are waiting for him to go to the Banquet Hall in the city.

“Everyone all set?” Youngho’s father asks the ones present in the room, at the moment, and receives sounds of assent in response. He looks at both his wife and his son, to confirm that they indeed have whatever necessities they need, to which they nod in return, so he smiles and the three of them head out of the house.

The car is already waiting for them in the driveway, so the three of them do not have to wait to get inside and get seated. Youngho’s parents indulge themselves in some small, generally harmless conversation that is completely unrelated to the Seo-Lee-Na wedding, while Youngho opts for leaning back on the seat to close his eyes.

His phone chimes alerting him of a new message, and Youngho has half a heart to not take his phone out to check it thanks to his motion sickness, but he does so despite of it, just to have something to distract himself with until they reach the place where it all begins; Youngho’s future, a new part of his life, and hopefully not the end. _Please don’t let this be the beginning of the end._

The message is from Doyoung, and it simply reads;

** _dodondondodon_ **

_what a small world it is. ;D_

Youngho squints at his screen in confusion. Of course, he knows the idiom and knows what it stands for. However, for Doyoung to text it to him out of nowhere, what happens to be the context? Did Doyoung meet someone? He texts the younger back.

** _ johnsnow_ **

_america, i am confusion. :/_

** _dodondondodon_ **

_of course u are :D_

** _ johnsnow_ **

** ** _what do u mean?_

** _dodondondodon_ **

_just u wait n watch hyung _

Youngho frowns, puzzled.

What does that even mean?

And how long must he have to _wait_ to see what Doyoung means by his cryptic message?

And isn’t it ass o'clock in the morning back in Chicago right now?

So, what the hell is Doyoung up to, so early, sending messages about small worlds and everything?

Youngho spends the rest of the ride in a restless kind of perplexity, periodically narrowing his eyes at nothing, and drumming his fingers on his knees. This behaviour goes unnoticed by his parents, so Youngho sighs gratefully. He does not need to give his parents more reasons to think that he is immature.

Youngho looks out of the window and sees rows of photographers standing behind barricades and breathlessly clicking away pictures of the elites of Seoul, the cream of the crop. _The Upper-Class_. When the car stops in front of the red carpet, a valet rushes to open the door for them.

“Welcome, Mr. Seo and Family.” The younger male greets once Youngho and his parents are out of the vehicle, adding, “This way, please,” as he gestures towards the entrance of the banquet hall via the red carpet and through the possé of journalists.

Youngho thanks him with a smile and heads to the centre of the red carpet in front of the photo-wall where he’d seen some of the other attendees standing and posing for the tabloids. Youngho smiles for the cameras as his parents do the same, and promptly walks away from the chaos the second after what feels a thousand flashes going off at once – through a chorus of _‘Here, Mr. Seo!’_s_._

Inside the hall, Youngho takes a breath of relief that he hopes goes unnoticed by everyone and anyone who may have their eyes on him. He looks up to take a glance at the attendees of the party, expecting to recognize some faces but comes up blank. Sighing in resignation, Youngho moves to stand beside his parents rather than in front of them, and as if instantly, he hears a vaguely familiar voice addressing them from the back.

“Mrs. Seo and Family,” says the voice of the Alpha from that day at the LSM headquarters. Lisa, her name was, wasn’t it? Youngho and his parents turn around and are met face-to-face with the female who is dressed for the evening in a body-hugging and very flattering black dress that goes down until her knees.

The dress accentuates her soft body-lines and gently brings the contrast out between those and her sharp features as well as her lean arms and legs. Her straight blonde hair is left down, and her lips are a soft rosy-pink colour. She is very pretty and Youngho thinks about how he would’ve possibly considered asking her if he could court her, given that he was not stuck in this situation.

“This way,” Lisa says, smiling before she leads them to the front-and-centre of the hall where Mr. Lee of LSM is standing and talking to some other elites as well as potential investors. Which is in accordance with what Youngho has heard and read about the yearly LSM Charity Ball that is hosted to celebrate the Lee son’s birthday, in congruence to the annual LSM Charity Auction that is hosted every year in the honour of the Lee daughter’s birthday.

“Good evening, Mrs. Seo, Mr. Seo,” Chairman Lee greets Youngho’s parents with handshakes and then looks at him. “Youngho.” He acknowledges him with a nod and an upward tilt of his lips, which Youngho mirrors.

“Chairman Lee.” They shake hands and Youngho winces internally with how _dissociated_ with this whole introduction thing the other man feels like.

Before Youngho can cringe himself into the afterlife, he is ushered away to a farther corner of the hall by Lisa on the instruction of the Lee patriarch, where apparently Taeyong already is, with his friends. Youngho does not make much of it, until he reaches there and why does that sound like—

“Johnny hyung!”

It is Doyoung. Doyoung, his best friend. His best friend who is supposed to be in Chicago right now but for some reason is standing in front of him, coming in for a hug.

Youngho opens his arms for the younger male and hugs him tightly and snugly, lifting him off the floor just a little bit. It hasn’t really been a long time since he saw Doyoung in person, but he has missed his best friend. So he channels all his longing into their hug, and Doyoung hugs him back just as tight, and full of warmth.

“Doyoungie…” Youngho sighs, burying his face in his best friend’s neck, taking a deep breath. The beta smells to him like his differentiating scent, and of fabric softener and fancy cologne. Youngho smiles to himself, really glad to see his best friend here with him.

“Surprise.” Doyoung laughs, mouth brushing Youngho’s jacket before Youngho puts him back down on the floor.

“Johnny hyung, we’re here too, you know?” Youngho hears Ten’s teasing jab just as he and Doyoung pull apart. He laughs in embarrassment and goes in to hug Ten and then Kun, who hug him just as closely, and Youngho’s heart saturates with love for his friends.

Only when he moves to greet the other people standing there, does he notice Lee Taeyong and Nakamoto Yuta staring right at him.

//

“Taeyong-ssi.” Seo Youngho greets him with a shy smile, and Taeyong cannot find it in himself to be rude, so he smiles back. “Youngho-ssi.”

Somewhere Ten makes an exaggerated gagging noise, following which Taeyong hears a slapping sound and Ten’s hissed _ouch!_ but he ignores that in favour of paying his attention to his about-to-be-husbands. Taeyong cringes inwardly when he thinks of that, wondering how long is it going to take him to get used to this situation.

He watches instead, as the taller male looks at Nakamoto Yuta, blushes instantly, and greets him. As cautious as he already is, and would prefer to be in the future, Taeyong finds it endearing to see the taller male blush like a teenager. He has never been wrong with people, has _always_ been right about their energy, and somehow Youngho and Yuta give him a good feeling.

Good enough to make him think that this arrangement might not be so terrible after all.

Don’t get him wrong, he would still rather swallow a denim jacket dry for breakfast than marry someone he does not know or willingly want to, but something about the other two’s auras – for a lack of a better word – puts Taeyong to ease.

It is only a little bit disconcerting to Taeyong how disarming Youngho and Yuta’s energies are to him, right off of the first meeting, but he guesses that he will figure them out in due time. After all, time with the other two is what he seems to have an abundance of — however unwanted it may be.

“So, how do you guys know each other…” He is grateful for Kun to have provided the distraction by presenting an opportunity to talk, so he exhales softly. “…Yuta hyung?” But oh, why would he ask that question that is just, complicated to answer? Sweet Kun, so gentle, so unaware.

On asking the question, Kun gets two identical, fondly exasperated looks from both his husbands, Doyoung and Ten. His bright, innocent smile turns into something more of an awkward grimace, and even the way he blinks now is so obviously awkward that Taeyong does not know whether he wants to laugh at him or console him.

Ten clears his throat and looks around while trying not to laugh, and Doyoung shakes his head with a grin before grabbing Kun by his waist. “Babe, let’s go get a drink.” He says, so painfully obvious that Taeyong barely resists laughing. In front of him, Youngho— no— _Johnny’s_ face is red with embarrassment, and to his left, Yuta looks amused if nothing else.

Some seconds pass after the trio leaves, before Yuta breaks the uncomfortable silence.

“So… That was kind of awkward.” He giggles, _giggles_, and Taeyong finds the sound very… child-like. _Innocent. _And…_ Pure_. It makes something protective flare up in his insides, a desire to keep the shorter man safe from the bad things in the world. It is not a new feeling to Taeyong – however, it is not completely welcome in this situation, either.

“Tell me about it,” Johnny snickers sheepishly in response, and the protective feeling in Taeyong’s chest doubles. Oh, no. _All they had to do was giggle like kids and now you want to protect them from the world? Get a grip, Taeyong._

So Taeyong shakes his head to clear his mind, takes a deep breath and tries to make eye contact with the two males in front of him. “Let’s take this somewhere else?” He suggests, and the other two nod in apparent understanding of what he means.

They begin making their way towards the back of the hall, so Taeyong looks around to make sure Seulgi can see him and the other two following along to the decided course of action. However, the three of them only make it a few steps away from where they started before they are being stopped, because of a body crashing into him.

He couldn’t see their face when they crashed into him; but realises that he does not need to. For not just their scent, but even the way that the person rubs their cheek against Taeyong’s is a dead giveaway of who it is, and Taeyong’s heart fills with love and reverence for his little brother.

“Hyuckie,” He smiles and rubs the younger’s back, and younger squeezes him tightly before letting him go.

“Hyungie!” Donghyuck beams at him, eyes turning into crescents. Taeyong cups his cheeks and squishes them, grinning, because he loves this boy so much.

“My baby!” He coos, making the younger smile wider, and cuter. He kisses his little boy’s forehead and gets a cutesy chuckle in return, and he could fight the whole world for his baby. Donghyuck seems to catch on to his train of thought, so he smiles in a manner that calms Taeyong’s protective instincts right down.

Then Donghyuck’s loving, loving gaze moves to behind Taeyong, and his cute face twists in confusion. He looks at Taeyong inquisitively, and Taeyong gives a minuscule nod in affirmation of the fact. And now it is Donghyuck’s turn to become defensive. He straightens up his back more than it already was, broadens his stance, and stands up to his full height — which is not much, but Taeyong will give him extra points for trying. It’s very cute — just like everything he does is.

Donghyuck puts on his fake, business-like grin, and walks past Taeyong to step up to Johnny and Yuta. Taeyong face-palms before turning around to look at his baby brother and how he is going to introduce himself to the other guys, and hopes that his younger brother likes these two men. No matter what their situation might be.

“Hello, I am Lee Donghyuck,” Donghyuck says to the others in greeting, smiling that fake little smile, and Taeyong eyes his brother in just barely concealed amusement, taking some steps closer to the three of them so he can get a closer view. Johnny beams in greeting, and Yuta grins shyly, waving at him.

“My name is Seo Youngho.” “I’m Nakamoto Yuta.”

The alpha and the beta introduce themselves one-by-one and Taeyong watches as Donghyuck scrutinises them, torn between feeling fond and feeling wary. Taeyong wants Donghyuck to approve of the two, because he does not want to add to the boy’s stress. University is already enough hassle as it is, and he does not want for his brother to be worried about what kind of people he will be married to. That is his problem to deal with.

“I know that.” Donghyuck says in reply to their introductions after a pause. “You’re Ten hyung’s husband’s best friend who is by extension also a close friend of his, that Ten hyung keeps talking about all the time.” He looks at Youngho, smirking cutely.

“And I attend SNU too, Yuta hyung. Jaeminnie loves you, can’t shut up about you – much like the close-to-whole population of the university – and he always tells me that he really misses you.” He tells Yuta with a… _soft_ smile.

Somewhere deep down, something in Taeyong releases a breath that he had been holding in, feeling just a tiny bit relieved that Donghyuck showed these strangers his fond smile that he reserves for only the people that he is close to, and prefers being around. He feels pleased to see that something about the other two makes Donghyuck put his guard down, too, and that it is not just Taeyong himself that the two have that effect on.

Then he blinks. Multiple times. It reminds him of that video of the man blinking in disbelief, and Taeyong wants to cringe, again.

What he does instead of cringing however, is that he stares at the other three quietly, unable to process how Donghyuck knows so much about them when he does not – _and he is the one marrying them!_

And his mind whirls, still partially in shock from seeing the way in which the youngest is interacting with Johnny and Yuta because the last time he checked, wasn’t his brother here for some definitely unneeded yet arguably endearing alpha-posturing? The protective, _you hurt my brother and I will cut you_ kind?

How did it go from _that_ to Hyuck being his loveable, sweet and sarcastic self with his soon-to-be brothers-in-law? Taeyong has no fucking idea. He continues to watch as the other three carry on making conversation, and before any one of the other two ends up saying anything that could be considered even remotely douche-y, Taeyong steps in to the conversation.

“Hyuckie, I think father wants you to meet someone,” He says, placing his hand on his little brother’s waist, pinching discreetly. He waits for Donghyuck to understand what he is implying, and it does not take long before Hyuck is grinning playfully.

“Just say you want some we-time with your lover-boys and go, hyung.” The youngest teases, wiggling his eyebrows in a pretend-suggestive manner. Taeyong deadpans at the younger and makes a shooing gesture that the boy heeds and walks away, though not before blowing him a kiss.

Taeyong shakes his head, chuckling to himself. How is it possible that someone is so troublesome and so, so lovely? He supposes that it is only Donghyuck who excels at both – at trying the people around him, and making them love him, all the same.

“He’s…” Yuta trails off, following after Taeyong as he leads them to a secluded corner of the establishment — away from the party yet not too far. A veranda with chairs and tables strewn around, almost ready to be seated in. Then Taeyong remembers Seulgi’s instructions from earlier in the day, and arrives at the conclusion that this was, indeed, pre-planned.

_Get them alone and talk it out. Make sure at least someone sees the three of you together._

“I’m sorry, you were saying?” Taeyong asks – leaning towards Yuta, hands clasped and elbows on his knees – once they get seated in chairs that are close enough to each other to arouse suspicion in whoever happens to see them there, but at a safe enough distance that they are not touching anywhere.

And in the mix of the artificial lighting from inside the hall, plus the moonlight from the open sky just outside, Taeyong looks at Yuta for the first time. Objectively thinking, Yuta is very attractive. He could probably make it big as a model if he tried. He has long hair that falls just short of his shoulders, in soft mahogany waves, and his eyes seem to sparkle constantly.

Yuta blushes at the obvious attention he seems to be receiving from Taeyong, and Taeyong would get flushed himself had he any less self-control _(he is glad he doesn’t)_. Probably feeling self-conscious from how Taeyong had been staring at him _(or that is what Taeyong would like to think)_, Yuta tucks some of the hair brushing his cheek, behind his ear.

“Just that your brother is very precious.” Yuta murmurs, looking at Taeyong, offering a radiant smile. Taeyong surely does get blindsided for a bit, because is his smile really that uplifting, _or am I just projecting?_ Speechless, yet managing to smile back in response, Taeyong takes a quick look at Johnny, who to his relief, looks just as close to starstruck as he feels.

“Right.” Taeyong mumbles, and then bites his lip, tongue-tied. “Thank you, I think.” He attempts a smile.

And it is silent again. The three of them do not know what to talk about — or rather, how to go about it. Taeyong takes some deep breaths, and hears the other two do the same. He tries not to look at any of the others, but somehow ends up staring at Johnny.

He gazes at him in awe, because even sitting down, Johnny makes the tallest silhouette. The lines of his body are long and graceful, surprisingly not lanky for someone who stands at a probable height of six feet and three inches. Or five? Taeyong sighs.

“Can I—” Johnny starts, but pauses. Then he starts again, and Taeyong looks at him, noticing that Yuta does the same. “May I ask how you— how you guys feel about this arrangement, or why you’re doing this, in general?” Johnny looks troubled, and Yuta does too, so without thinking twice, Taeyong releases calming pheromones into the air. Almost instantly, the strong smell of the bleach starts to fade.

And to be honest, he does not know what he expects.

Maybe he expects two heads snapping up to stare at him in surprise because _why would he do that for someone he barely knows?_ Right? But Taeyong, for one, likes to think of himself as someone with a sense of basic, common courtesy. If he can help someone in distress by doing something as simple as releasing some pheromones, then he is going to go do it, no questions asked.

Now that he comes to think about it, ah, is _this_ why he ends up in uncomfortable situations more often he’d like?

When he does not get an exaggerated reaction – or any, at all – Taeyong feels relieved. He isn’t very sure how he would’ve felt, had there been any kind of reaction — especially something like shock or curiosity for so miniscule a gesture, so he is quite pleased that the other two have chosen not to make a big deal out of it.

He is looking at his fingers when he registers that Johnny has just asked them a question, so he licks his lips. He waits for some moments to see if Yuta wants to answer, but when Yuta does not, he looks up. Only to see that both their gazes are trained at him.

“Are you asking because you’re trying to look for a way out?” He asks in reply instead of giving out his reasons right off the bat. He cannot explain why, but he wants to know if the other two are going to look for a way out of this. Will he help them look for it if they are, or does he want to know whether the other two will try to make this work? He is not sure.

Taeyong looks at Johnny, and then at Yuta. Yuta looks curious to know what Johnny is going to say, much similar to himself, and yet, he looks just the slightest bit uncomfortable. He also notices how Yuta sits still, not saying a word about how he feels. He wonders why. Surely he does not_ actively_ want to marry _them_?

They’re all far from their starry-eyed teenage years when the prospect of love and marriage and mates was a thing to blush and giggle about. It would be very surprising, and not to mention bothersome, if Yuta really were to be interested in this. Wouldn’t it?

“I don’t think we have any choice _but_ to go through with this.” Johnny’s voice breaks his reverie, and Taeyong tears his eyes away from Yuta to make proper eye contact with the tallest. “So we might as well try… and help each other make it easy?” He suggests.

Taeyong considers that. He thinks back to when Seulgi gave him the same advice, and now so are these two. _Hmm_. Well, he guesses that if these guys are on board with the whole married-just-on-paper thing while proposing to be on friendly terms with each other, then this just makes it all the more easier for him. Doesn’t it? _Why does it sound too easy, then? Too good to be true?_

He looks at Yuta. That Yuta who still hasn’t really spoken a word. “Well, how about we ask Yuta-ssi how he feels about that?” He aims the question towards the youngest of the three of them, instead, wanting to know what it is that compels him to be a part of this and yet not say a word.

//

And suddenly all eyes are on him.

Yuta opens his mouth. Closes it. Gapes like a fish out of water for a bit.

Runs the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip. Pulls it between his teeth.

Feels the weight of two pairs of eyes on him, even though his head is bowed and his eyes are unfocused, staring at his thighs. _Counting the number of threads on your pants’ fabric isn’t the answer to life’s questions, Yukkuri. _A voice similar to his Mitsuha’s echoes inside his head.

Words, words, words.

Hmm, right.

Very difficult to string them along and to say things… _Things_ that make sense.

“I think…” He begins, looking up from his lap to focus on the two in front of him. His eyes are met by Johnny’s and Taeyong’s, interested and inquisitive. Yuta looks back at both of them, at a loss for words, yet again, though only momentary. How does he tell them what he wants and feels, without sounding like a desperate, deprived, sad excuse of a person?

“I think I want the same thing as Johnny hyung said.” He lies.

_That is the only way to go, Yuta_.

“If we’re… If we’re stuck in this for a substantial period of the immediate future, we might as well try and make this whole arrangement easier for all of us? ’Cause I feel that at the end of the day, no matter what happens to the merger, or the companies, it’s _going_ to be the three of _us_ who are gonna have to live with the consequences – positive or negative.” He attempts to clarify, hoping that the others will understand what he is trying to say even though he is feeding them half white lies.

It’s not a lie if it’s for the greater good, right?

He watches Taeyong swallow and then nod slowly, and as Johnny exhales a breath while leaning forward. He waits for their reaction. They both seem to be taking their sweet time to process Yuta’s view of it all, and Yuta waits patiently to know what their next course of action will be.

“Right.” Taeyong mumbles after a long pause. Yuta watches as he wrings his fingers uncomfortably, leans back into the seat and tries to get adjusted in a relaxed form. _Something’s wrong_, Yuta’s gut feeling helpfully supplies. He looks over to Johnny to see if he has noticed Taeyong’s discomfort or not, and to his relief _(for some reason)_ Johnny looks concerned as well.

“Is everything alright with you, Taeyong-ssi?” Yuta asks, softly, and yet ends up startling the mentioned male. Taeyong breaks out of his reverie and laughs. The sound is forced and unsettling. The uneasy feeling in Yuta’s stomach intensifies. He kind of wants to vomit.

“Right. Yes_._” Taeyong sighs, smiling through his discomfort. What is he going to say that has him feeling this uneasy? Yuta curls his toes in anxiety, not wanting for it to show outwards. “I had hoped— _wished_— that it would be easier to say this… to tell you… to tell you that…uh…” Taeyong breathes out, swallows, curls his fingers in a fist around his thumb.

Yuta waits in anticipation. He looks over at the eldest, and Johnny seems to be doing the same. They are holding their breaths. Feels like the whole world is. And maybe, it is. For their world right now, in this moment, is just the three of them. The three of them, and their little space where they are alone.

“I don’t want to marry you guys, at all. The one I love is someone else.” Whispers Taeyong apologetically.

And just like that, the flicker of hope in Yuta’s heart is quashed.

And it hurts, even if it _is_ a microscopic bit. But it _does,_ because Yuta had _hoped_. Like an _idiot_ Yuta had hoped for something good to come out of this. For one more chance at having something beyond platonic. His one do-over at love. He knew it was too good to be true.

He knew he couldn’t have it easy. _Expectations always lead to disappointment_. How could you forget something that you’ve always sworn by? How could you forget the one thing that has done the job and succeeded at keeping you safe?

But to let his guard down so easily, barely at the premise of something idealistic… _just how deprived of affection are you, Yuta?_

“That… That’s okay. I don’t think any one of us was expecting the others to have agreed to this because they _want_ to marry two strangers, right?” Yuta chuckles, sounding surprisingly genuine despite the bitter rejection seeping into his veins. _It’s okay._ Things don’t always have to work out, but they don’t always have to fall apart either.

_Friends, Yuta. Friends. _

Maybe you’re just not supposed to be loved again. Bad luck with love, right?

“Besides,” interjects Johnny, “what I meant was that I’d like for us to be friends, for this marriage to be otherwise easier on us. Not acknowledging or being unwelcoming to each other is going to get us nowhere but down the road of misery and miscommunication.” As the weight of his words settles in, Yuta and Taeyong nod in understanding.

“… and I’d really like to avoid that.” Johnny smiles uneasily.

_Wouldn’t we all?_

_So what are we doing this for, after all?_

“Well…” Taeyong cuts through the awkward silence, looking around as if someone might be eavesdropping, then relaxing after stealing a glance at his phone. Something that Yuta has noticed ever since he started talking to Taeyong today is the fact that the faux-brunette has been looking at his phone and typing something frequently. It’s kind of unpleasant, and Yuta is not sure whether he should question it or not.

“To answer Johnny’s original question…” Begins Taeyong, wringing his fingers yet again, “It’s just that… my elder sister has worked too hard to be where she is today, constantly facing opposition from our bull-headed father, fighting disapproval from the sexist board of directors, and I’ll be damned before I take her company away from her. Or let Donghyuck be forced into this.” He grits out, troubled.

Yuta nods slowly. He understands. He would be damned before he let Mitsuha down, and made her lose what she has so much taken care of, worked herself to the bone for, all by herself in a world that still somehow seemed to be wary of her being a woman — alpha or not.

“But… what about the person you love? Do they want you to do this?” Johnny verbalises what is on Yuta’s mind. Two pairs of eyes turn to Taeyong.

“I…” He swallows, runs his hand through his hair. “She’s stuck in something like this herself. It is what it is.” Taeyong smiles sadly, and Yuta’s mind immediately flashes back to Sicheng. His eyes get warm and his breaths start to come in shorter, so he sits back up straight and takes a deep breath. Clears his throat as softly as he can. Try as he might not to attract the other two’s attention towards himself, it is really impossible to not be noticed when they are all sitting barely five feet apart.

“Are you okay, Yuta?” Johnny’s voice sounds concerned and Yuta would answer him if he wasn’t on the verge of a breakdown. He focuses on taking deep breaths and calming down himself down for just long enough to get himself out of this party and back into his bed, but it just feels so difficult because here he thought he was getting better. But no, just one thought about Sicheng and he’s close to losing it, again.

And it’s not easy.

Not at all.

To comfort himself and calm down when anything and everything in his body wants to become one with the atoms of his surroundings. The harrowing loneliness and heartbreak just seeps into him like poison tainting his veins, and it feels like he will never be alright again. He has no idea when he curled into himself, but he feels it when hugs himself tighter and begins rocking himself back-and-forth.

_Pathetic. _

_Losing it day one into this shit. _

_If they actually wanted to even try to like you, this would drive them away anyway._

_Why do you have to be so unlovable? _

_No wonder Sicheng didn’t even try to stay. _

_That is what you deserve, Yuta! _

_You’re an embarrassing disgrace!_

What feels like a long time later, through his clenched teeth, and the vengeful static inside his head, Yuta feels the burn of the reflexive tears falling out of his eyes. It becomes hard to breathe through his nose because of those, and he wipes his face with shaky hands.

Breathing through his mouth is another cause for embarrassment because that makes it sound like he is sobbing, which only makes him want to actually cry. His eyes hurt when he tries to open them, but once he does, there is another situation to be dealt with at hand.

The rest of his senses come back to him, and he is not ready to believe or deal with what he sees in front, and feels.

Taeyong is holding his left arm gently and rubbing warm circles on his back, and his chair is stuck to Yuta’s as if with glue. Johnny is on his knees right before him, one hand holding Yuta’s right, thumb moving across his knuckles in gentle lines back-and-forth, while one hand holds out a handkerchief to him.

_Embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing._

A tidal wave of embarrassment just washes over Yuta and he can feel his face burn hot because of the shame. He barely makes eye-contact with Johnny as he takes the handkerchief from his hand, just somehow mumbles out a thanks. Taeyong continues to rub his back, and then it registers to Yuta

The smell of lavender.

It is faint, scarcely noticeable under the smell of calming pheromones that the male is releasing, but ever-so-present. Yuta wonders if it is just because of his fucked up state of mind right now, that is making these strangers _(and your future husbands, Yuta)_ smell like one of the things that he loves.

_Embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing._

He pushes that thought to the deep recesses of his mind and hopes that he will forget it, because if this meeting today has made one thing clear, it is only that this arrangement is going to break his heart. In so many ways that he can count, this is going to be bad for him.

Falling in love with principally heterosexual men, being gay himself. He’s not even going to think of it as a maybe, he knows himself too well. Well enough to know that if these two are _this_ kind to a stranger, then living with them is going to be hard because if there is anything, and anything that Yuta is attracted to the most, it is a person’s kindness.

He feels more than sees as Johnny moves backwards to allow some fresh air in, and he quickly pats the handkerchief under his eyes, sniffing. Gulping and taking some deep breaths to soothe himself he notices a glass-full of water that wasn’t there earlier, before he chalks it up to Taeyong messaging someone to bring them some.

Distracting himself is another thing that is not easy. To come back from a breakdown always takes a while, and right now Yuta just feels so ashamed. “I’m so sorry about this. This is embarrassing.” He apologises and takes some more deep, slow breaths.

_Embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing._

“Never apologise for something you cannot control.” Taeyong speaks, so gentle, so full of conviction, that Yuta almost tears up again. The feeling only intensifies when Johnny, still on his knees, smiles.

“Being overwhelmed is not embarrassing. You’re only human.” He says, and looks at Yuta as if Yuta could never do anything wrong.

_If you only knew_.

Some more minutes pass, Yuta can breathe easy now. Neither Johnny, nor Taeyong have moved from where they were, and Yuta just wants to curl up in a corner and cry his eyes out.

It's not because of Sicheng this time.

It’s because he knows, that if things go even remotely well, he is going to fall in love with these men, and that will be something he cannot control.

And how much that will hurt, he does not want to know.

_Embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing._

“Do you want to talk about it?” Taeyong asks him carefully, and Yuta shakes his head no. _I’ve cried enough for the night,_ he thinks. Taeyong nods in understanding, Johnny follows.

“Maybe next time,” Yuta murmurs. Johnny still hasn’t moved from the where he was at his feet, and it makes him guilt gnaw at his insides. “Please get off of the floor, your knees must hurt.”

“They’ll be fine,” Johnny shrugs, nonchalant and lovely. “Are you though? Fine, I mean.”

“I am.” Yuta says, even attempts a little smile for the taller man, who looks much smaller right now.

“Okay, now I can go back to the chair.” Johnny says and smiles playfully, as he stands up in one fluid movement and sits back in his chair.

_Embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing._

For some minutes (hours? seconds? who knows?) silence remains their only link. Everyone seems to be deep in thought, and this silence is only interrupted by Taeyong _(thank the lord)_, who sounds something between an unusual and yet acceptable mix of patience and exasperation.

“This is not going to work like this.” He says, and for one brief moment it scares Yuta, before Taeyong finishes what he was saying. “Give me your phones.” Yuta and Johnny do as they are told, and after some very fast tapping on all three of the phones, Taeyong gives the devices back to their owners.

“There, the three of us have each other’s phone numbers now. I’ve created a group chat where we can talk about everything, so don’t forget to text in there. And I’m afraid we’ll have to end our meeting here today because of time constraints, I’ll tell you the rest on text. Yuta, your sister is waiting for you in the back so head straight to her, and Johnny, avoid my father for the rest of the night. Leave early if you have to, I’ll make some excuse for it.”

And suddenly, Taeyong is a different person entirely. Not that he is any less kind or indulgent, but he is so much more determined now. An epitome of power, if nothing else. Yuta nods in response to what Taeyong tells both him and Johnny, and out of the corner of his eye, Johnny seems to be nodding as well.

“I’ll walk Yuta to his sister and text my parents to meet me by the back so we can leave.” Says Johnny, and Taeyong smiles at him gratefully. He verbalises his thanks that Johnny waves off, Taeyong helps Yuta up and off of the uncomfortable chair. Johnny side steps them and stands in front to give them cover, and once he sees that the coast is clear he turns around and flashes them a thumbs-up.

And as if out of a scene from a movie, both Johnny and Taeyong look at Yuta curiously.

“Are you ready for this?” Asks Johnny.

“Yeah, I think I am.” Yuta manages a barely-there smile. Yet his realest in a while.

And maybe, just maybe, getting his heart broken again might not be so terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my moons, take care of yourselves. i hope you're all doing well.
> 
> min 💘


	7. rule number one (is that you gotta have fun)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter 6; johnny has some feelings™. and johnyutae go on their first fake date uwu
> 
> chapter title is from how to be a heartbreaker by marina and the diamonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick disclaimer: i don't live in seoul/south korea, have never been there, and the only source of my knowledge for locations are [saku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakunade), google, the seoul metro map, and my inference+imagination from the pictures of bukhansan.
> 
> [isis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenomeow), my beta, my sweet summer child, thank you so much for tolerating my bs i love uuu always 😭💘💘💘
> 
> and m, my loml, enabler, constant supporter who is also my technological aid, and never once complains about the things i make her do bc of our soulmatery. i love u mostest. ❤❤❤
> 
> hhhhhhhhhh hiking during the east asian monsoon..... boys what were you thinking? 🗿🗿
> 
> i hope u enjoy this chapter.
> 
> p.s. the 18th (tomorrow in my time zone) marks the first year since i started posting this, and if you've stuck by this baby fic until now, i am so grateful to you. thank u. it means the whole world to me. ❤❤❤❤

Youngho steals a glance at the man walking by his side. Yuta's hair rests around his face in a mix of soft, dark waves and straight tresses, bangs pinned to the side of his head by shimmery golden hairpins. He is shorter than Youngho — _ but then again, everyone is shorter than me _ — though maybe not the shortest of their lot, and has beautiful posture.

Yuta would make Youngho's etiquette teacher proud.

His face is a little bit swollen and flushed because of all the tears, but somehow, he does not look even slightly unattractive. He is very… _ handsome _ — for a lack of a better word. His jawline is strong and rounded, and his nose-bridge is prominent but somehow soft around the edges. His eyes look like they hold the whole universe in them. His hair is the colour of dark chocolate, same as the colour of his starry eyes, and his skin glimmers in warm tones. 

Youngho knows that at this point he is staring, but he cannot stop because this is the kind of beauty you read about in fairy tales, he supposes.

Yuta still happens to be sniffling, and though his eyes are dry now, his nose sounds runny; and Youngho wants to smile because — _ blame it on his hive brain, thank you _ — Yuta happens to be using the handkerchief that he gave him, and seems to be refraining from blowing his nose on it.

He is also acutely aware of his fingers almost brushing against Yuta's own.

"Staring is rude, Mister." mumbles Yuta, looking straight ahead, his dainty fingers wrapped around Youngho's handkerchief. There is a little laugh somewhere in his voice, a suppressed one, and Youngho wants him to let it out. He does not want for tears to be the only thing Yuta takes with him from tonight.

_ But how do I make him smile? _

"You can blow your nose on my hanky, I don't mind." He blurts out the first words that come to his mind and… _ Wow _. Youngho's bird brain to mouth filter: off. He bites his tongue the moment the words leave his lips, and wishes that he could stop putting his foot in his mouth every time he opened it. 

He has to resist a full-body cringe when the words register in his frog brain and he manages to achieve that out of sheer willpower, but his heart is already sinking because Yuta hasn't said anything yet and this is so quiet and embarrassing dear _ God _.

And then Yuta snickers.

"Johnny-hyung, please." Sputters Yuta, and his eyes curve into the cutest crescents when he does. "Thank you for your permission for me to blow my nose on your _ hanky _." He says in the cutest way possible. So teasing.

Something about that causes Youngho's switch to flip and it is truly nothing if not mortifying how fast his chest is constricted with an overwhelming fucking _ need _ to protect Yuta — and it is _ strong _. 

Enough to blur his vision and lock Yuta's scent into his system. He smells like books, new and old. A little bit like the ocean air. Youngho swallows in an attempt to relax himself, but it does not feel like it's working.

Seemingly unaware of this, Yuta continues to snicker under his breath before he pauses in his words and step. 

Youngho does not have to guess why, because a quiet moment later he feels Yuta's fingers touch his, and then as they slowly fit into the gaps in between his own. He holds Youngho's hand gently, tentative in his approach, and Youngho would chalk it up as an impulse if he tightens his hold.

_ "Hey, hey, it's okay." _ He hears soft murmurs through the muddled-up pheromone haze. _ "You're okay." _

The smell of calming pheromones slowly tickles his nose, and Youngho closes his eyes. He can feel the feverish heat behind his eyelids, feels Yuta's hand in his. Notes of Lavender quietly creep into and fill his senses, and that alone is enough to make Youngho's pheromones spike and his eyes snap open. His fingers tighten around Yuta's — almost hurting him but not quite — and they're in the middle of a fucking private hallway in the back of the venue where anyone could see them were they smart enough to look.

But Yuta does not seem to mind that. He stands right there with him, in the middle of that damn hallway where anyone could see them, holding his hand just as tight—not caring about making his sister wait for longer than necessary, because Youngho needs help.

It's generous of him and Youngho is grateful.

A few minutes later, when Youngho comes back to his senses, he feels Yuta rubbing his knuckles with the pad of his thumb in careful circles. Youngho sighs out of exhaustion. This night has been hard for all of them, and maybe not the best start to their _ thing _ — whatever _ thing _ that it's going to be — so at this point he can only hope for their next meeting to turn out for the better.

"Feeling better, now?" Yuta asks, and his voice is layered with so much concern that Youngho finds it a little hard to understand how a person could be _ this _ kind to someone they're stuck in a problem with.

He gulps again to make the ball of discomfort in his throat go away, and clears his throat to say something; but he nods instead because he feels like there aren't any words left in him to articulate.

"I'm sorry I almost—" He begins but pauses, not sure of how to word what just happened. 

Yuta helps him with that.

"Sorry that you almost went pheromone-stupid on me?" He asks, smirking, but something in his gaze is sweet. His smirk would almost make him look cruel were it not for the twinkle in his eyes — or the sweet tinge in his scent. 

Youngho searches his eyes for he does not know what.

Yuta is standing a good arm's distance away from him and it somehow does not settle well with Youngho's gut, but he knows that he cannot do anything to change that. _ (Not any time soon.) _ So, he just nods in answer, yet again.

"It's okay," Yuta waves it off, grinning for some reason that Youngho does not understand. It feels like Youngho does not understand a lot, lately. 

"When Jungwoo and I first met, I activated his fight-or-flight response, too. It was equal parts hilarious and scary. What _ is _ funnier though, is that it's been years and we still don't know what triggered it." Oh. _ Oh. _

So he's like _ that _, huh.

"Jungwoo?" Asks Youngho, once they start walking again. The venue is huge and the way to the back-exit is long, so he figures that they might as well talk to pass the time that feels like it stretches forever.

It's not like talking is going to hurt them. In all honesty, Youngho would rather talk about _ anything _ than letting an awkward silence accompany them. He focuses all of his attention on the beta walking by his side.

Yuta smacks his forehead. "Jungwoo is one of my best friends." He tells him and grins, and it will probably take Youngho a good while to get used to the radiance of Yuta's smile. 

Youngho smiles back at him because it is hard not to. 

After that, they talk about harmless and informal things. Which is code for ‘things that aren't too personal,’ to stay in a safe range. Yuta gushes about his best friends a little, and a bit about his work. Youngho does the same, only he talks more about Doyoung and Jaehyun than managing a business.

Youngho feels weird when they finally reach the back exit. The room is lit the same way as the main hall, though much, much smaller. Nakamoto Mitsuha is seated on a velvet sofa, poised and elegant as always. Her calm exterior (that Youngho is a little scared of) cracks the moment she spots her brother safe and sound. She rushes to come to stand closer to where Youngho and Yuta are, and only briefly nods at Youngho before taking her brother's hands in hers.

The siblings don't talk. At least, not verbally. Mistuha looks over Yuta from head to toe, once, and then twice. When she is satisfied that Yuta is physically fine, she takes a step back and ruffles the side of Yuta's unpinned hair. 

Yuta nods at her to appease her, because her pheromones have been high and sharp ever since they came (surely even before that) and it's been rubbing Youngho the wrong way. 

But Youngho understands it. He may not have any siblings but if Doyoung or Jaehyun faced any difficulty, he would be agitated, too — to put it very, very mildly. The elder Nakamoto finally acknowledges Youngho, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Thank you for walking my brother here." She slowly pulls Yuta to her side. "Even when you didn't have to." She says and does not give Youngho a chance to reply. 

_ Is this how mom and dad want me to be… mature? _

"It's nothing." Youngho makes sure that he is visibly courteous to her, because as strict as she may be with him, she hasn't done anything wrong to receive impoliteness. 

Regardless of that, Youngho should never be impolite, at any instance.

She may be especially stern with Youngho, but it is only because she wants to protect someone that she loves. He nods at her, and tries to smile but he doubts if it even ends up looking like one.

She returns the gesture, but her smile is much more believable than Youngho knows his will ever be. The next few moments pass within the blink of an eye and Yuta can barely say goodbye to him before the older Nakamoto walks away with him in tow.

Youngho watches them turn the corner with something akin to disappointment floating in his chest. _ What were you thinking was gonna happen next? Yuta kissing you goodbye? In _ ** _front_ ** _ of his sister? _

Well. I mean. 

Youngho is sensible enough not to follow that trail of thought beyond where it stands, and takes his phone out to call his mother and let her know of the change in their plans.

As he stands in wait for his parents to show by this exit, he feels his phone vibrate. He takes it out to check whatever it is, and sees one single message in their group chat.

**Good Thing™**

**yuta nakamoto**

_ thank you. _

_ 22:43 _

It makes him smile.

He almost sends him a cheesy _ anything for you _ text out of habit before he pauses, blushing. He settles with typing in a _ it's no problem _ and pressing send, face flushed as he sees his parents approach from the other end of the hall.

If they notice the flush on his face, they're both graceful enough not to say a word. 

If Youngho blushes all the way home, well, then, it's a secret between him and the city lights winking back at him.

/

The first week of July is interesting in many ways but one. The three of them have been talking. About themselves, about their days, and working on slowly getting to know each other.

Youngho supposes that that is more convenient than anything, were they to be friends first. In the case this whole sham of an arrangement doesn't end up working out, at least the three of them won't hate each other's guts.

Besides, getting to know someone and beginning a friendship is a fun thing. _ (Right? Yes. It is. Youngho, don't overthink this) _ They find out that all of them share a terrible, terrible sense of humour. It's so bad that all they have to do is look at a silly photo and they are close to tears.

It's a welcomed change for Youngho, in his very humble opinion. He, Taeyong, and Yuta talk about their days, their schedules and activities on text. It's not too bad having someone to talk to after a long day at work, someone who does not know him as well as his friends do.

It's almost exciting.

The one way that it is not fun is that at some point during the week that Youngho does not bother remembering, their first date is scheduled for this approaching Saturday, on the 9th of July. 

While he internally panics about the prospect of going on the _ proper _ first date of his life — _ ever _ — Yuta reveals that he loves the outdoors and one of his favourite activities is hiking.

So without further ado, they decide that they will be going hiking to Bukhansan.

The finer details have been decided beforehand by the JYT Protection Council (as they're calling themselves — the group consisting of Ms. Kang and the companies' representatives involved in this entire fake dating sham), and according to them they'll leave by nine in the morning to meet Taeyong, and then take his car to the place. 

The rest will be up to his manager, Ms. Kang, and an _ anonymous _ tip to Dispatch about a prospective first date for the Nation's Model.

It sounds well planned out, it _ is _ well planned out, and Youngho would feel very confident about how meticulously it has all been formulated — except he doesn't. He's nervous. It doesn't really make sense why — okay, lies, it _ does _ — but what the fuck, Youngho?

_ So what if I haven't really gone on a proper first date… like… ever? _

_ It's okay. _ He thinks as he tries to ease his nerves. _ Just think of this like another one of your meetings with a prospective rut-partner. It's not like you haven't gone out to eat with people before. _

_ And then taken them to bed afterwards _ — But _ that _ is besides the point. The point here is that Youngho has been there, and done that. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. He just needs to go out with them, have some semblance of fun, and that's all there is to it.

It sounds so, so simple in theory.

Only it isn't.

Youngho knows that both Taeyong and Yuta are good people. He understands that neither of them truly want to be a part of this engagement. He also understands that there is no other option for the three of them but to partake in it.

He just wishes that it was simpler. Easier. Like one of the more common arrangements where it _ is _ more-or-less vaguely disclosed to the public that the marriage between the two parties _ is _ strictly for strengthening political relations.

Of course, it would be best if Youngho were to be no part of this at all, but he reckons it's better for him to stop thinking this way. At this point, he thinks, _ deus ex machina _ is probably the only thing that could make that happen.

He pauses in his process of wearing a trail into the carpet when he hears soft knocks on the door. Only then it is that his senses zoom back into function and he recognizes the smell of jasmine. His father.

"Dad? The door's open, please come in." He calls out gently, and hears the doorknob turn, the click after which the door swishes open. 

"Son," His father smiles as he walks in. "I was wondering if I could have a minute to talk with you?" He asks, hesitantly. Youngho wonders why, but nods regardless, smiling.

"I have all the time in the world for you, dad." Says he as he sits on the floor, while his father takes a seat on the bed. Papa Seo looks sheepish, in a way, looking all around the room with a gaze that speaks of nostalgia, and somehow simultaneously, awkwardness.

Youngho watches his father gather his thoughts, quiet, and patient. There is a faint trace of bleach in the air, laced with jasmine, so to ease his father Youngho releases a small puff of calming pheromones into the room.

Another few minutes later, Papa Seo sighs softly. "You must be sick of everyone staging these interventions with you, aren't you?" He smiles, a little sheepish again, but with a grace that Youngho only wishes to have. It settles the tempest in his heart down to a soft drizzle.

He shakes his head once he processes his father's words. "I'm not. It's all insightful. I appreciate all the concern and advice, Dad." He tells him as truthfully as he can. There is a little bit of a lie somewhere in there, but what his father does not know won't hurt him.

"I'm sorry." Papa Seo murmurs, his eyes settling on a spot somewhere behind Youngho's head. Youngho looks at him confusedly, until he continues. "About the ultimatum." He takes a pause.

_ Oh _.

Youngho is not sure about how he should respond. The ultimatum, to be honest, had slipped his mind almost entirely — even though it is something to not be taken lightly at all. He doesn't have to think too hard about a response, however, because his father resumes speaking.

"But we will not take it back. We want what is the best for you, and for our family, and if that requires some tough love on _ our _ part in order to get _ you _ there, then that is how it is going to be." Says the elder Seo, voice calm like still water. The emotion in his gaze provides a stark contrast to the detachment of his voice, and Youngho nods in understanding once he realises what his father is trying to say without saying it all.

He gets it. The Seos weren't always the elites that they are today, and modern as it may be, the Upper-Class Society will still drag a family fallen from grace through the Devil's entrails of the sewage if they have to — just because they could. 

Just for their entertainment.

It's more vicious against families like Youngho's. Old Money will _ always _ side with Old Money, and families like The Seos haven't many options besides being a part of the elite by _ any _ means necessary, or hoping that they've been _ uninteresting _ enough for the Upper Class to leave them alone were they to lose it all.

That is just how it is. 

Cruel.

"I understand, Dad." He nods, his good mood close to being flushed down the proverbial drain. Papa Seo sighs, for the umpteenth time since he stepped into the room, and Youngho wonders what could be wrong. 

_ What now? _

Papa Seo waits for some long breaths.

"I'm sure your mother has talked to you about our marriage…" Begins Papa Seo, staring at his hand and fiddling with his wedding ring. Youngho nods, thinking back to the night of the charity gala. 

Words, words, words — nothing Youngho hasn't heard before. 

What is his father here for?

"I think I just wanted to reinforce that though your mother might not have been the person I'd ever have considered to be with were it not for politics…" He smiles at his ring, "We made it here today because before anything else, she is my best friend. I really do not see myself as having shared these last couple of decades with anyone but her."

Youngho lets a small smile take over his face despite his reluctance, because whether unknowingly or not, his father's words mirror his mother's. Did they discuss what they wanted to say to him? 

He nods to let his father know that he's paying attention to him.

"We went through hardships in the beginning because trusting each other was not easy for us, but we moved past the doubt and suspicion and gracefully opened ourselves to each other. To each other's companionship, before the union." Stresses Papa Seo, lacing his fingers together. Youngho smiles a bit more (maybe, _ maybe) _ when he realises what direction this conversation is headed towards.

"And maybe that is love, son. _ Friendship. _ Mom and I might have not wanted to be with each other as spouses if we hadn't been friends first. We got to know each other as transparently as we could, forwent any bias against each other that we could have had, and I can proudly say that she is the best person in this whole world. 

"And I know that this probably doesn't mean much when you'd possibly be just on your own, when you just might be the only person trying, but it is something for you — _ all of you _ — to consider." Says his father, pursing his lips into a smile that's quiet but speaks volumes.

That's… _ Sweet. _ Redundant, sure; but sweet still. 

Youngho smiles at his father and nods once, and the elder Seo understands what his son says without saying it. Youngho smiles, hoping that his father understands his gratitude without him having to verbalise it.

Papa Seo sighs one more time, squeezing his joint hands before he stands. He brushes some nonexistent dust off of his pant-legs and pats his son's shoulder before walking out of the room without a glance back.

Well. That was something. Whatever the hell it was.

Youngho breathes. Just breathes. Rakes his hand through his hair, runs it down his face. When he looks at his wristwatch to check the time, his heart jumps to his mouth. It's late enough that if he doesn't high-tail it right now, he's probably going to be late. 

And as a result, leave a terrible first impression— second impression? Fake first impression? — on his fellow fake dates. He rolls his eyes at the situation and rushes to his car regardless.

The trip to Taeyong's apartment complex is a long one. In the smack dab center of the city where the celebrities — idols, models, actors, you name it — all reside. The advantage on Youngho's side is of the early timing, thanks to which there aren't many traffic jams for him to get stuck in.

He tries not to overthink it any more than he already has. It's just a hiking trip, friends hanging out as _ friends _. What could go wrong, right?

When he's let into the complex after entering the gate code, he drives in following the directions that he has been sent. Taeyong's apartment building happens to be at the farthest end of the complex from Youngho's gate and it takes a ten minute drive for him to get there.

He parks his car at the guest parking lot, and waits until further instructions as mentioned in the text from their so-called Protection Council. Feeling the tell-tale buzz of nerves in his system he takes in some deep lungfuls of air and takes his phone out.

_ brothers, wish me luck. _

_ 09:58 _

He shoots a quick text to Doyoung and Jaehyun, locks his screen and keeps his phone on the dashboard in front of him. At the sharp strike of ten, his phone chimes with a text message telling him to get out of his car and walk towards the private elevator. 

He follows the directions despite the persistent gnawing in his gut that wants to resist. The primitive part of them that evolution couldn't simply do away with. That, which lies coiled in every single cell, tissue and muscle of their bodies, just as separate an entity as it is intertwined. 

The walk from the dark loft of the parking to the dimly lit ambience of the private elevator is both thrilling and exhausting. 

For there are two wolves inside Youngho and both of them might just be at war. 

One that is the vestigial bearing of centuries upon centuries of transmutation and wants not to follow but to lead and control; and the other who prides this metamorphosis, basks in the deviation from antediluvian instinct and wants to be free of its influence — to let things happen as they may.

The lifts dings, the war climaxes. 

For now.

Youngho lifts his gaze to see Yuta sending him a curious look so he smiles at him in greeting. 

_ Play it cool, Youngho. Chill. _

Taeyong walks towards the two of them once the doors of the elevator slide open, silver sleek against the crisp white of the walls, and Youngho knows that it's not just him who smiles at the sight of the model.

He is followed in step by Miss Kang, his manager and the pretty beta smiles at Youngho and Yuta as they reach them.

"Good morning, boys." She beams and her eyes curve into adorable crescent moons, bangs falling over her face in straight strings of soft silk.

"Good morning, Kang-ssi."

"Good morning, noona."

Youngho and Yuta both greet her, and she smiles before patting Taeyong's back and stepping back. If her smile doesn't reach her eyes, Youngho would chalk it up as a trick of the light.

"Hey," Taeyong's voice is soft like he wants not to speak them, and before Youngho could even think of questioning it he is swept up in a hug, Taeyong's arms enclosed around both him and Yuta.

The shock does not delay his motor response thankfully and he wraps his arms around both the men he will be married to, at some point in the near future. 

Honestly to himself, he may still not be used to those terms — married, marriage, matrimony — but it's gradually beginning to sound less and less like a life sentence, so he supposes that it's progress, really.

Taeyong whispers him out of his thoughts.

"I'm sorry if you're not okay with me touching you out of the blue, and I will not do it again without your permission." He breathes softly. Someone wraps their arms a bit more snug. It might just be Youngho himself, he does not know. "But it's been decided that this is needed for the publicity. If you could both smile, it would be great because they're going to take a picture of this, as blurry as it may be."

Well. He hadn't thought of that, at all. He _ cannot _ think of that, at all. 

Because right now it's just them. The three of them and warmth and lavender under the expensive cologne and differentiating scents. Chins perched on Taeyong's shoulder, hands clasped with hands and Youngho having to bend just a little bit to wrap his arms around his intendeds.

Somewhere within the close to long embrace Youngho murmurs an _ it's okay _ the same as Yuta, and Taeyong lets go of them first when the text alert of his phone goes off.

He checks whatever it is, and pockets his phone.

"Now that that's done," He says, smiling politely, "Let's go hiking."

Youngho nods, and they follow Taeyong to his car.

The drive to Bukhansan goes by in relative quietness. R&B music plays from the stereo system of the car, and thanks to their still fairly early timing on a weekend, the roads are blissfully less crowded than they would be at this hour on weekdays.

They still do talk about casual things here and there, not daring to venture into personal territory just yet. It's a little bit (really, _ really _) awkward to do it in person, but it's not something that they cannot find their way around. 

All friendships start with some awkwardness. The more cringeworthy the first few interactions are, the merrier the friendship might be later — and this is something Youngho knows for sure. Take him and his best friends for example.

"How far up do you guys wanna hike?" asks Yuta when they get out of the car, rubbing his hands in excitement and almost bouncing on his feet.

He's endearing. In a very casual (heartwarming) way.

"We have the whole day, so as much as you want." says Taeyong after a few seconds of pause, chuckling a little bit at Yuta's zeal.

"Ah, cool!" He smiles and it makes Youngho feel like the earth is spinning the right way again.

They open Maps, stretch their limbs, and start climbing away. Yuta carries a small bag with him that has water bottles in it, and Taeyong carries some snacks in his jacket. Looking at them makes Youngho feel grossly unprepared.

He shakes off the feeling and continues to hike along with the other two. 

Things go by smoothly (well, as smoothly as they can on rocky terrain such as this, but!) and it's a fun time until Youngho slips on a barely visible puddle of water on one of the steps.

There are three sounds of panic, ranging from a breathy gasp, a squeak, to an _ack!_ and Youngho is not sure who's made which. He just sees the world tilting in front of his eyes and feels the fear of God permeating his pores. His hand slips from the railing and he's sure that this is it, _he's_ _going up_.

Thankfully, _ thankfully, _ he's not. Or so it turns out.

Taeyong and Yuta both grab him by one of his hands and pull him back up from where he hangs mid-air, inches away from falling and quite possibly breaking something, and decide that _you know what,_ _you're probably better off navigating_. The plan is to see the sunset, after all.

They wait until Youngho steps in front of them and leads the way, and Youngho's hive brain is to blame if he stands a bit taller while doing so. 

They have fun the rest of the way. Youngho and Yuta have a splashing match in the shallow stream where they become open and unguarded enough that when Taeyong takes their pictures and records tiny clips of them playing around, they have no idea that he does.

"Are you guys okay?" asks Yuta when they take a break on the side of the trail, sitting on a park bench and sipping from a water bottle each that he is carrying.

They've been walking for longer than two hours now, and while Youngho doesn't feel the slightest bit of strain thanks to his biology, he marvels at his companions' stamina. 

Conventionally attractive, and reliable. 

_ Nice _, whispers a part of his monkey brain.

They follow the directions on paper and Youngho is proud of his map-reading skills because by the time dusk falls, they're all standing at the _ Sunset Point_. The sky is, surprisingly, multiple shades of pink. Vibrant and ebullient, and the freshness of the air is something they all cherish deeply — clearly deprived of it in the hustle-bustle of the metropolis.

He hears three deep intakes of breaths. Three slow exhales.

The moment feels charged with something Youngho can't quite put his finger on. When he turns his head to the side and takes a look at his companions, there's that ticklish feeling spreading through his chest, again.

He wants to say something— _ anything— _ but he holds himself back lest it break the spell that all three of them happen to be under, cast by the gentle radiance of setting sun, the chirping of the birds, the swishing of the wind.

While Yuta looks delighted (though haunted by a shadow of sadness, it seems), Taeyong stares pensively at the sun, slowly relinquishing its control of the horizon. Youngho wonders how _ he _ looks like to an outsider, just _ gazing _ at his fiancés, just trying to figure out their train of thought.

_ Whipped, _ whispers a Doyoung-like voice in the back of his mind. _ You look whipped. _

He shakes his head and looks back to the scene in front of him, as the sun hides in the corner and takes with it the last few remainders of light, the moon comes out and rules the sky, the stars twinkle faraway and illuminate the night.

And all of a sudden, Taeyong shouts. "Mark!"

Johnny turns his head towards him so fast he feels the whiplash. Funnily enough, so seems to be the case with Yuta too, if the way he's rubbing the side of his neck is anything to go by.

Youngho _ hears _ Yuta suppress laughter.

"Uh, Taeyong-ssi, are you okay?"

Taeyong looks at them at the mention of his name and stares at them for two whole seconds before snickering.

"Yeah." He snorts. Youngho still thinks that it's attractive. "Sorry. It's an inside joke between my best friend and I. I like to randomly shout his name out regardless of time and location, and every time that it happens he ends up laughing so hard he cries."

He still keeps on chuckling and Youngho finds it sweet because he's pretty much the same with his best friends, and watches Yuta smile impishly then turn towards the valley.

"Mark!" He yells with a giggle and the wind carries the sound back to them. Taeyong laughs, and Youngho can't help but grin at their silliness before he joins in as well.

Doing something like that in public where anyone could see it and twist it into an entirely different narrative sets warning bells going off inside Youngho's head, but he chooses to ignore that in favour of the two men by his side, laughing between the hullabaloo of _ Mark! Aaah, Mark! Hey, Mark! _

It’s fun. Youngho enjoys every second of it.

As all things must come to an end, their date happens to be no different. 

None of them want to leave the view of the hills behind. Still, looking at the way dark stormclouds suddenly surround every visible part of the sky out of literally nowhere, the three of them reckon it best that they start treading downhill, and _ fast _ while they're at it if they want to make it to the car before the rain begins.

It's dark everywhere, even the light fixtures scattered around happen to be flickering because of the high-speed winds, and if the three of them walk way faster than it's safe to on this terrain, nobody mentions it. They hold tightly onto each other throughout the climb downhill.

Try as they might, light showers begin before they're even halfway through. Lightning claps through the sky momentarily brightening everything before the thunder follows and boosts their need to hurry.

By the time they reach Taeyong's car, the light showers are long gone and there's only heavy rain pelting against their clothes and bare skin.

All of them pause and collectively cringe before getting inside the car because as unpleasant as the thought of getting his car drenched is, they have no other way but to get in the car and drive away as fast as possible (while staying within safety limits, thank you).

Taeyong all but shivers through starting the car, but once it starts, he doesn't hesitate to zoom away. The universe is probably not on their side tonight, Youngho thinks, when just seconds later they hear multiple loud bangs and the car skids to a stop.

Taeyong curses loudly and jumps out of his seat to check what is wrong, and for their collective safety, Youngho and Yuta get out of the car as well.

Taeyong kicks at stray pebbles by his feet.

"The tires are all fucked. I've only got two spares." He murmurs helplessly. It's the first time that they've heard him sound frustrated.

"I'll call for help." Youngho suggests and takes out his phone, only to see _ No Service _ displayed on the top of his screen. He tells Taeyong that, who curses again, massaging his temples. 

It doesn't help that it is _ still _ raining cats and dogs, and they should probably not stay out in the rain in their already soaked-through clothes, but none of them make a move to get back inside the car for some reason they cannot explain.

Yuta comes back to the front from where he had gone looking at the back of the car, and his expression says he might have some unpleasant news.

"Well, I'm trying not to alarm you or anything, but the car's out of fuel." He announces, scratching his head sheepishly. 

Taeyong makes a [ face ](https://media.tenor.com/images/80217013403d3c017c1f085503eab601/tenor.gif) that's very funny if you ask Youngho, and looks up at the pouring sky as if to ask, _ No Mercy? _ But of course, the rainwater smacks him right in the face and he scrunches his eyes shut.

"How did you know?" He asks anyway, though Youngho has a hunch that Taeyong doesn't want to know the answer.

"Kept smelling something, went around the back to check and saw a hole in the tank. Maybe some sharp pebble or something got to it." He mumbles through the sound of the downpour.

"Aaah, I can't stand the rain!" Taeyong growls and kicks at gravel again.

The sound makes all the hairs on Youngho's arms stand on end, but not in a manner that's rooted in fear. He rubs his arms nevertheless and looks at Taeyong.

"Let's get back inside the car first?" He says and ushers the other two in, Taeyong getting back into the driver's seat with a resigned sigh while he and Yuta sit in the back.

"Okay." says Youngho, after taking some deliberate, slow breaths that help him focus. "Okay… Does any of you have even the least bit of a network signal on your phone? I don't." He tells them and shows his phone screen. The _ No Service _ stares back at them.

"Me neither." Comes from Yuta.

Taeyong checks his phone. "Nope. Not me."

"Ah…" Youngho licks his lips in confusion. Some moments pass in silence (or is it minutes? Time is barely a comprehensible construct, even less so in the middle of a torrential downpour like this) where they take their time to think about what the fuck is going on.

"So we're stuck here." Taeyong breaks the silence with a voice defeated to the circumstances, a bit nasal because of the dampness of his clothes slowly getting to him.

"And nothing's open." Yuta sighs from Youngho's right side. "So we can neither call for help, nor look for a mechanic."

"Which means we're probably spending a long time in your car that has no fuel and therefore will be unable to provide heating, out here in the middle of no fucking where," Youngho concludes their observations, shaking his head. 

What the fuck. What the fuck? _ What the fuck. _

After the three of them put their phones on airplane mode to conserve charge, they go back to being quiet. Through the windows that are all closed shut with little to no opening just to allow them necessary respiration, Youngho chances a look outside. 

The night feels like it won't be over any time soon (a glance at his wristwatch only furthers that belief), and after a while of silence that is only accompanied by the sound of the rain hitting the roof of the car and of the insects of the night, he feels a shiver shake the man beside him from head to toe, the cold finally getting to him without any doubt.

"It's getting cold." Someone mutters, muted by the sounds of nature outside.

And yeah, although Youngho might not be as affected by low temperatures as his fake(?) dates, he can feel the inside of the car slowly getting colder and colder.

He hears someone rubbing their body over their clothes, probably a last-ditch attempt to try and warm themself. Youngho sucks in a breath and opens his mouth to say something, but closes it when he realises that he doesn't know how to verbalise the idea without making it sound weird.

He toys with different versions of how he would say it, but nothing sits right with his gut.

It's when Yuta unconsciously gravitates closer to him, whispering a surprised _ You're warm! _ that Youngho figures out how to put the idea out there in the open.

"I'm not feeling cold, and I'm pretty sure I won't throughout the night," He begins, but the moment words leave his lips he becomes unsure of everything again. "So if you guys would please not mind, I think the three of us can fit in the back seat easily. It'll be warm." 

Youngho tries not to make prolonged eye-contact with either Taeyong in front or Yuta by his side, but he ends up at the end of Taeyong's scrutiny locked in onto him.

"Is this…" Taeyong breathes out, his breath a visible cloud of white inside the car.

Youngho waits for him patiently.

"Is this— is this you trying to be a _ Trademark Generous, Considerate, Protective, Saviour Alpha? _" He makes air quotes on every single adjective, his voice becoming uncharacteristically stony at the last word.

Youngho lets out the breath he was holding.

"This is me trying to be your _ friend." _ He confesses, hoping he sounds genuine to him because it is the truth.

While Youngho is more or less bound to his biology and goes about more with his instinct than his brain — probably more so than the two men in the car with him right now — he didn't even think of his _ Being an Alpha _ at this point.

He just wanted to keep them warm.

Taeyong stares at him skeptically for another few moments, before Yuta speaks up.

"Taeyong-ssi…" He rubs his hands. "It's cold, and Johnny-hyung is very hot— ah, I mean, warm. He's radiating heat like a heater and it's pretty nice and I think you'll feel less cold if you come to sit with us. Ah, I'm kinda rambling, aren't I?" He cranes his neck to look out of the window on his side, but Youngho understands that it's because he's embarrassed, so he decides to make a fool of himself again.

"I mean, in Yuta's defence, I _am_ pretty hot." He laughs, and watches Taeyong roll his eyes, fighting a smile himself. Yuta makes a high pitched, pressure-cooker whistle-like sound. "But jokes aside, please come sit with us."

Taeyong contemplates quietly for a minute, and that minute feels like one of the longest ones of Youngho's life.

Relief floods his body when Taeyong manoeuvres himself over the console and unceremoniously drops into the other empty side by Youngho's body.

The three of them sit shoulder to shoulder, periodically sneaking glances at their phones in hopes for some network. In the quiet, Taeyong begins humming something and it's honestly a nice change, not to mention with his voice that sounds so mellifluous it surprises Youngho a little.

He tries not to smile.

He smiles anyway because the ticklish feeling in his chest has evolved into full-fledged butterflies now. And turns out that it's not as bad a feeling — not at the _ least _ — as he'd thought.

What feels like hours later, Youngho wakes to movement around him. He opens his eyes and instinctively looks outside to see if it's still raining, and it's not. Oh thank God. 

The sky seems to have cleared up, and the sun has only just begun peeking through the curtain of golden-white clouds. Birds are singing and chirping around them, and his body is a little numb from sitting up this whole time. 

He figures that some movement would do his cramped muscles good, except when he tries to move, he finally registers two bodies hugging him close. He looks at his chest and feels his face flush thermonuclear when he sees Taeyong's head on his shoulder, and Yuta's on his chest.

He has _ no idea at all _ when this transpired through the night, but when he tries to move his fingers that he cannot see, they come in contact with damp clothes. Oh. _ Oh. _His arms are wrapped around both Taeyong and Yuta.

As if feeling the flexing of his fingers, both the men shift and burrow closer to him one by one. Oh God. _ Oh God. _Youngho thinks that this is quite possibly the most flustered he has ever been in his whole life, and looks at the men in his arms in wonder.

_ Just how strong must you be to affect me like this without even trying? _

Taeyong stirs. Youngho pretends to be still asleep. 

He hears more than sees him wake up with a soft noise and try to make sense of his surroundings until he comes to. When he tries to sit back up straight thus moving away from Youngho, he feels a tug. 

It is at that point that Youngho looks down and his heart instantly flutters at what he sees. Taeyong and Yuta. Their joint hands. That Yuta still happens to be clinging on to in his sleep. Taeyong, panicking just the slightest makes accidental eye contact with Youngho, and well, there goes Youngho's plan of not getting caught being a creep.

Youngho wills his heart to calm down lest it gives him away, and blinks slowly as if he's just woken up. Taeyong _thankfully_ buys it and looks at him, then back to his and Yuta's hands, and back and forth the same way.

"What do I do?" He whispers, back bent in an unhealthy looking angle, so Youngho — while praying that he does not offend him — pulls Taeyong close with his arm that's still around his waist, though loosely wound now.

"I don't think you _ can _ do anything besides get back here until the baby wakes up," says Youngho, looking at Yuta. Every cell in his body feels fond for their youngest companion (even though it's so by merely a few months) and he smiles.

What Taeyong says next only makes him fonder of them both.

"He really _ is _ our baby, isn't he?"

Even Taeyong sounds so, so tender while talking about him, Youngho is glad that he's not the only one. He chooses not to give more thought to Taeyong referring to Yuta as _ their _ baby. _ (For now.) _

It doesn't take more than ten minutes for Yuta to begin shifting and fidgeting himself awake, and when he lifts his hand to rub his eye, he doesn't seem to realise that he's still holding Taeyong's hand.

Youngho and Taeyong wait for him to wake and realise their position with bated breaths. Some moments later, Yuta does. He notices Taeyong's hands in his and lets it go with a squeak.

"Uh, I'm sorry?" He says, sleepy-voiced, and it sounds like a question which makes Youngho and Taeyong smile to themselves.

"It's okay." Taeyong brushes off with a grin. "Our baby slept well?" He smirks, voice teasing and Yuta stares at him woozily.

"I'm sorry I'm not fully awake just yet—_ did you just call me a baby? _" He mumbles, running his hands over his face in slow, careful movements.

"_Our _ baby, but yes." Taeyong shrugs, not speaking on it anymore.

Yuta looks at Youngho curiously, sleepy faced and galaxy gazed. Youngho shrugs casually despite the tenderness overwhelming his heart.

Separating is a different matter. While overnight the wetness of their clothes has fairly reduced to dampness, it also means that their clothes have gotten a little _ stuck _ together as well as to their skins.

Once they go back to being three people from a singular unit, Yuta and Taeyong open the doors and step outside, and immediately a gust of fresh morning breeze flows in. Youngho steps out into the open and all his senses come alive.

He rolls his neck gently to work the cricks out and sighs in relief when his neck feels back to normal. He then moves on to cracking his joints and working on feeling like a functioning person again instead of a soggy log of wood, and it's a slow process, but it's one that comes with confirmed success.

He looks around to see and indeed, they happen to still be on the mountain trail, and while there are no shops close by, he's positive they'll find something if they walked for a bit.

Youngho is busy taking the morning in, and letting the pleasant breeze freshen him up, when he hears Taeyong talking on the phone. He takes his phone out, switches back from airplane mode, and checks for the signal, sighing in delight when he sees three bars out of four.

His phone is immediately flooded with missed calls and messages alerts from his friends and parents alike, with him watching helplessly as his phone freezes to deal with the onslaught of notifications.

"They're sending a car over." Taeyong confirms behind him, and Youngho turns around. If Yuta's relief wasn't visible on his face, it's clearly audible in his loud, pleased huff.

"Thank the Lord!" He cheers, dramatically falling to his knees. Taeyong shakes his head and laughs at him, and sneaks a photo.

"I can't _ wait _ to take a shower." Youngho groans, grimacing at the feeling of clothes drying on skin. Taeyong snickers and Yuta joins him, and Youngho can only see Taeyong offer a hand to Yuta to help him stand back up, which Yuta quickly takes, no questions asked.

"So what do we do until they get here?" Taeyong asks as Youngho makes his way over to the two of them.

Yuta looks at Youngho and Taeyong with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Well, as he gets closer, Youngho realises that it's trained on him. He makes a confused face at the man and before he can even blink, Yuta taps him and runs.

"You're it!" Youngho backtracks as it finally settles in and looks over at Taeyong and Yuta running around like headless chicken. When they get away to a safe enough distance to not get caught, they pause, look at him and beckon him over.

They look so delighted, how could Youngho ever refuse to play along?

He runs.

An hour later when the SUV with tinted windows finally pulls up close to them, Youngho is on the receiving end of a dogpile — Taeyong and Yuta trying to keep him down and twist his body in all the wrong ways and he's laughing because his question of _ Is this where you guys finally kill me and dump my body on the mountain where probably nobody will find me? _ gets him smacked and tickled as if they're all little kids and not functioning adults.

Taeyong's manager steps out of the car, giggling when she sees them in the position that they are as she walks towards them. They greet her and she ushers them into the vehicle and begins driving away, informing Taeyong that his sister will be making sure to get his car towed, fixed, and dropped back to his apartment.

When they enter the city, Seulgi gives Taeyong his work phone to check and the sigh Taeyong lets out is something of a disappointed sound. As if he's come back to reality and he doesn't like the way things are.

Youngho looks at him cautiously, and so does Yuta, from where the two of them are in the back, and Taeyong turns around from the passenger seat to show them the contents on screen.

**Omega Super Model Lee Taeyong on an outing with ** ** _friends?_ ** ** Or is this the start of something… ** ** _more?_ **

"It didn't work the way it should've." He sighs.

"Do you have something from yesterday? A photo, video, anything that we could use?" Seulgi asks all of them, her eyes fixed on the road in front of her.

Well. Youngho didn't even think of taking pictures together or anything of the sort. He shakes his head no, and looks over at Yuta who happens to be mirroring the gesture.

Taeyong takes his phone out. "I think I have just what this situation needs." 

He scrolls through his gallery and shows something to Seulgi who pretty much does not even spare it a glance because of her driving, but gives him the nod anyway.

Taeyong asks for Youngho and Yuta's Instagram handles and tells them to set their accounts to private if they haven't already because once this post goes through, they're likely going to face a gigantic influx of interactions — most of it unwanted.

"Better to stay out of the limelight, boys." He says right before Youngho and Yuta's phones ping with a notification each.

It's about a photo tag, so Youngho and Yuta look first at each other, then at Taeyong in thinly veiled confusion. Taeyong ushers them with a nod to open it.

When the post opens and the photo loads, Youngho's insides feel like melting. It doesn't even matter that their real emotions are quite different from the ones in the post, but Youngho quickly leaves a comment anyway.

On his side, so does Yuta.

It's a happy photo, Youngho thinks. The men in the frame really do look like they're having the best time, like they're the happiest they could be — like this really is the start of something new, of something _ romantic. _

A week or two ago, the pang he might have felt at the thought of this whole courting ordeal being fake is not here to bother him today. _ It's real as long as I believe it to be, _ Youngho supposes _ . _

It's a comforting feeling.

So what if this thing of theirs might never work out romantically? At least they're all going to have a good time while they're at it, and that's what matters. Fake dates or not, arranged marriage or not, he's going to try and make sure that all of them have fun, if nothing else.

Yuta's laugh brings him out of his head.

"Hiking—pfft—hiking _ during _ the East Asian _ Monsoon _—" He snorts, "Boys, what were we thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking, man." Taeyong laughs. "I mean, to be fair to myself, I don't really think. Like, _ ever." _

Yuta snorts sarcastically. "Yeah, as if."

Well. All Youngho knows is that Yuta mentioned that he loves hiking, and so that's what they decided to do. He briefly smiles to himself, thinking of how easily they do Yuta's bidding without Yuta even asking them to — or knowing about it.

"Well, I mean…" Youngho pauses, smirking when an idea to tease Yuta comes to him. "You told us you love hiking, and who are we to not do what the baby loves?" He raises an eyebrow at the man next to him, his smirk on the edge of becoming a full grin.

Yuta smiles sweetly, but it's the dangerous kind.

"Call me baby one more time and I'll bite you."

Everyone in the car laughs.

Everything in Youngho relaxes.

_As long as we're having fun. _

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (needless to say, a certain mark lee hiccups a lot that evening.)
> 
> my moons, i love u so much. thank u for existing. u're worth everything. stay safe. the world may be cruel but it doesn't feel like that with u. ☺💕🍀✨
> 
> \- min


End file.
